Even Angels Fall
by Sakura's Pointe Shoes
Summary: Nefertiri sneaks out of the palace and gets herself into a lot of trouble. Imhotep comes to her rescue, but little does he know what is in store for him... Imhotep/Nef, Imhotep/Anck su namun
1. Imhotep to the rescue

Title: Even Angels Fall

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mummy, Nef, Immy, Anck, or Seti. This is just for fun!!

* * *

Chapter One: Imhotep to the rescue

* * *

Never before has the air seemed so thick with fear, Imhotep thought to himself as he hurried into the palace. The Pharaoh had sent for him most urgently but had not revealed what the matter was that was so distressing. His legs carried him into the throne room, he immediately bowed as was custom. Seti leaped off the golden chair and down the steps of the dais, motioning for the Med-jai to close the heavy doors behind them on their way out.

When they were finally alone, Seti bade Imhotep to stand.

"Imhotep, great disaster has fallen upon this house. My daughter is gone, and no one knows where she is." The old man's voice was weak with worry, his brow uncharacteristically bent in exasperation.

Imhotep himself was now concerned. There was no question which princess it was, only the Princess Nefertiri was so beloved by the Pharaoh. Her absence was baffling, the High Priest was compelled to ask questions first before proceeding further.

"How long has Her Highness been gone?"

Seti raised his hand to his forehead, covering his eyes with fatigue.

"She did not appear at dinner, so I must assume she was gone before then."

Imhotep felt an inward lurch of dismay. It was now past midnight and with such an enormous time frame, the princess could be anywhere for all they knew. Seti seemed to be thinking the same thoughts as he, neither man looked pleased at the prospect of turning over every rock in Egypt to find her.

"Where are her ladies-in-waiting? Maybe one of them knows something about the princess' whereabouts." Imhotep suggested carefully. Seti's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. The younger man knew he should tread carefully where Nefertiri was concerned.

"I shall summon them at once." With that, the Pharaoh commanded his two Med-jai to bring him all of his daughter's servants at once. They left the room with quickened steps. As Imhotep watched their retreating backs, an idea occurred to him.

"Your Majesty, I shall consult Osiris on this troubling matter."

Seti nodded silently while Imhotep bowed once again. He too left the throne room, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what might come to pass.

* * *

"I humbly beg Your Majesty's forgiveness," Ashayt, Head lady in waiting, lay prostrate on the floor before the Pharaoh. Her shoulders shook, but the words of confession came tumbling unstoppably out of her mouth.

"There was a great ruckus outside her balcony, we all saw it down in the distance there was something going on in the market… The princess convinced us into helping her-"

"Silence!" Seti roared formidably, "You say my daughter is alone in the city?!"

This seemed to make the poor lady tremble even more violently. "Yes, Your Majesty. But she is in disguise, no one knows who she is. Even the Med-jai did not recognize her when she left the palace."

"Why in the god's name did she do this?" cried the Pharaoh, his arms thrown up angrily.

No one dared answer when he was in such a ferocious mood. Luckily, Imhotep returned precisely at that moment and the Pharaoh's attention was diverted.

"Your Majesty, I believe I know where Princess Nefertiri is."

* * *

The night was dark and cool, almost welcoming compared to the uncomfortable atmosphere of the throne room back in the palace. Imhotep had made it rather quickly to the city, taking a chariot with two strong stallions. He had insisted on going alone since there was no need for him to be accompanied. Though he did not say it, the Pharaoh had more or less implied that he did not want a spectacle to be made of his daughter's disobedience and apparent wanderlust.

Imhotep understood, so here he was, searching for the missing princess in the middle of Thebes. The open air market was nearly empty, all of the booths closed save for one or two merchants who were enjoying the cool evening. There were camels here and there, but that was not the only source of noise.

Osiris had given him a vision back at the temple, he was fortunate enough for that. Frustration was beginning to build in him when he remembered there was a well nearby where the princess was located.

Imhotep's ears picked up a great commotion, coming from behind a few of the closed tents. There were several men dressed in plain linen, whom he supposed were traders who traveled to Thebes via caravan. He remained ensconced in the shadows, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"Oh, the little lady knows how to put up quite a fight!" One boisterous voice proclaimed in delight. There was a scuffle and a scream that sliced through him. He believed it to be Nefertiri. Imhotep studied the area and wondered which way would be the best approach. He was beginning to regret not bringing any Med-jai with him.

"Hold her down, boys…" The same voice growled unpleasantly.

"No! Please, _please!_ I am the Princess Nefertiri, I am the Pharaoh's daughter! Let me go!" He watched, half petrified with fear for her life, and he knew if he did not intervene soon, these men would rape her.

"A princess, eh? Where are your bodyguards, then?" Another cruel voice jeered, followed by a round of hearty laughter.

"Believe me, _Your Highness,_" One of the men said mockingly, "By the time we're done with you, you'll be begging us to keep going!"

Imhotep was thoroughly enraged.

"I believe you have spoken too soon," He said firmly as he revealed himself to Nefertiri's attackers. They stopped short and momentarily forgot about their prey, who was sobbing quietly on the ground behind them. They were surprised by Imhotep's presence, caught off guard at the possibility of truth behind the girl's words.

"I am Imhotep, High Priest of Osiris. I have been sent by His Majesty Seti I to search for his daughter Nefertiri. I see you have saved me that trouble." He drawled in his most threatening tone. These illiterate idiots looked more and more scared with every step he took toward them.

"Oh really? How do we know you're telling the truth?" The pudgiest one dared to ask.

A menacing grin flitted across his face as he placed the palms of his hands together and raised them to the sky.

"Osiris, I summon you! Smite these insolent rats where they stand, they offend the daughter of a god, they offend you! Mighty and great god, I ask that you sweep upon the Earth and rid these men from your presence-" Imhotep was really getting into his act when a very strong wind picked up and rushed past the bewildered attackers.

"Oh it's true, it's true! He's the high priest! He'll kill us! Osiris have mercy on us!" They were sent into a flurry of panic, they all dashed away and mounted their horses, galloping away and not sparing a single glance back.

He smirked in satisfaction, silently thanking whatever deity sent that wind right on cue. He rushed to fallen Nefertiri and immediately helped her up.

He noticed that she was dressed in a plain garment with no jewels, and that her hair was loose. She looked nothing like a stunning girl she usually was, no wonder she was able to slip away unnoticed.

"Hello." She said simply.

He couldn't help chuckling affectionately at her greeting. The familiarity between them was something they had never lost throughout the years.

"We must return to the palace immediately, princess. Pharaoh is quite worried about you."

Realization sunk in, he could see the physical transformation in her face. She looked sullen and disappointed.

"He knows?"

Imhotep nodded gravely, "Your maid Ashayt confessed where you had gone, and good thing too, or I may not have reached you in time to prevent this."

"Stupid cow. And I could have handled myself just fine, thanks." She grumbled.

He laughed again as he helped her stand. It was a lucky thing that he kept an arm around her waist to steady her, for as soon as she stood, her knees buckled.

"I do not feel well, Imhotep…" Was the last thing she murmured before she passed out , sagging against his body. It did not look like anything was amiss before, besides her being quite shaken, but she seemed strong.

He scooped her up into his strong arms and carried her back to the chariot, fear renewed in his gut. His horses thundered back from whence he came, he trusted them to bring him back since he was occupied carrying the princess. He did not want to go to the palace just yet, he knew she would not want to face her father like this.

First, he brought her to his private chambers within the temple and placed the sleeping princess down on his bed. Imhotep looked her over once more, noting the way her brows were knitted together as if she were smelling something unpleasant. He hurried to the palace and into the throne room where Seti waited impatiently.

"Your Majesty, I have retrieved your daughter. She is safe, but as I attempted to bring her back, she experienced some sort of pain that was enough to cause her to fall unconscious. "

Alarm spread across the old man's face.

"I request that you examine her, Imhotep. You are my most trusted physician."

As predicted Imhotep was charged with caring for the princess. He bowed and retreated, his mind already pondering the girl's condition.

* * *

When Imhotep returned to the temple of Osiris, he decided he would try to understand what it was that ailed Nefertiri. He entered his chambers quietly, not wanting to disturb the princess in case she was still asleep.

"Where have you been?"

He was startled when her voice rang out in the darkness. Imhotep could vaguely make out her silhouette in his bed. He approached slowly, not wanting to stumble and embarrass himself in front of her.

"Speaking with your father."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That you are now my responsibility for the time being."

She slid off the bed and took a few steps toward him. His eyes were guarded and wary, her mysterious behavior was quite suspicious. Her hands rose and came to rest on his forearms, but she did not come any closer.

"Those men forced me to drink something," Dread began to fill him at the sound of genuine fear in her voice, "I mean, I went to their booth and asked if they had anything to drink and they presented me with some kind of potion. Then they grabbed me and it all went wrong from there…"

"Princess, do you know what it was?" He knew exactly what those street merchants sold, highly potent and effective drugs that were capable of terrible things, he could only guess which one she took. Oh why did she have to be so foolish?

"The man told me that it was harmless, just a game really… I did not know they would do such a despicable thing."

"You drank all of it?"

"Yes. I was so thirsty, you see."

"How do you feel?"

The princess bit her lip. If she told the truth, he would be disgusted with her.

"I don't know," She lied flatly.

They were silent for a moment and then she moved back to lie on the bed again. Reluctantly, Imhotep sat beside her and took her wrist in his hand. She looked at him, something akin to terror in her expression, but he did not see for he was busy checking her pulse.

"You are frightened." He said quietly. Her pulse was racing, but she was fighting to keep calm.

"Of course I am frightened. I cannot remember the name of the potion, but I'm sure I heard them talking about it at one point during the night."

"Perhaps it was a forgetfulness potion?" He joked.

Nefertiri glared at him and he grew serious once more.

"Then I will ask you again, Princess, how do you feel? And I expect honesty this time."

She drew in a shuddering breath but said nothing. He could feel himself losing patience. If there was nothing wrong with her, then she was wasting his time when he could be getting a good night's sleep. As if she sensed his growing displeasure, she spoke, but her words were extremely quiet.

"I feel desire."

His eyes widened in dawning comprehension. "A lust potion then."

If it wasn't so dark, Imhotep might have seen her blush.

"I… I suppose. But it is…it-"

"Yes, princess?"

"It is growing in intensity, Imhotep. It is making me dizzy with want."

He knew this must be painfully embarrassing for her to admit. After all, she was only a young woman who had not lived enough to know these wanton feelings. He wondered what kind of a mess he had gotten himself into.

"You should sleep." said Imhotep dismissively. He clearly did not want to be here when she was in such a state. She would have let him go, only if the mere thought of his departure did not rattle her to the bone. She grabbed hold his of his hand.

"Please stay with me. I feel better when you touch me."

Quickly, the High Priest weighed his options in his mind. He could vacate the premises and leave the princess in suffering, or he could stay, and alleviate her discomfort by simply holding her hand. He decided the latter was not too dangerous, so he lowered himself back onto the bed again and Nefertiri leaned into the cushions with relief.

"Thank you, Imhotep." She meant every syllable, already her head was not spinning so hard.

"Your welcome princess. Now please, try to sleep."

It took only a couple of moments for her to drift off. Imhotep did not even realize he had been stroking the back of her hand, but it must have been soothing to her, so he carried on even when she slept.

He took this opportunity to study her fully, to discover all of the little changes that had developed when he had not been paying attention. Nefertiri was always a slender, flower-like child, he remembered the giggling, silly girl that always jumped into his arms at every chance she got. In her adolescence, her body had matured nicely into that of a beautiful woman's.

Still, her face retained some of that child-like innocence, and he could see the child she had been . But she is no child, he thought contradictorily. She would be married soon, most likely. When Imhotep considered how fast time elapsed, he suddenly felt very old.

Shaking his head at himself in wry amusement, he thought once more of the situation at hand. She had admitted to taking a lust potion, though he knew not which variation she consumed. Street merchants could alter their products to whatever intensity they wished, so the effects were impossible to tell until time had run its course.

Nefertiri was a relatively sheltered girl as far as he knew, so it would have been only too easy to dazzle such a girl into taking samples of goods such as amazing concoctions. All could be forgiven as soon as she was on her feet and back to her old self again.

* * *

Hours passed slowly. Imhotep's eyes began to droop, he could hardly sleep in a sitting position. He figured that she was sound asleep, and it was his bed after all so there would be no harm in sleeping beside her. The bed was wide enough for them to have ample space between their bodies. He shrugged off his black robe and settled his head on a pillow.

Imhotep's eyes flew open when he felt a pair of soft lips trailing over his abdomen. He shot up faster than lightning and yanked Nefertiri off of him. He tried not to pay attention to the hurt look in her eyes, or that his own body had responded to her seduction.

"_What_ are you doing?"

She said nothing. Tears sprang to her eyes as she recoiled from him, she raised her knuckles to her mouth and bit on them to stifle her cry of outrage.

"Nefertiri, you must not give in to the potion's calling. The only way to be rid of its grasp is to wait until it has run its course." He kept his tone gentle as he recovered from his initial shock.

She removed her knuckles from her mouth, tears spilling onto her cheeks.

"It hurts, Imhotep. Everything in my body is screaming at me to touch you."

Well, damn, he thought simply. How was one supposed to get past this?

"Maybe…Maybe if I held your hand again." He did so and lightly massaged her fingers, soothing the angry red marks her teeth had left in her skin.

"It isn't enough anymore." Nefertiri groaned unwillingly. She was doing everything she could to compartmentalize the burning agony that tore through her, but she was failing and there seemed to be no end in sight.

Throwing caution to the wind, Imhotep took her face in his hands and caressed her cheeks, hoping it did some good. She closed her eyes, sighing a bit, but then she leaned forward and kissed him without any warning. He stiffened, his mind warning him of proceeding in this manner, but if this was what she wanted then who was he to keep on refusing her?

Her tongue had gently entered his mouth, rubbing against his own, she was experimenting with what she liked. Her hands, the little devils, were wandering up and down his chest, barely missing his nipples. Her legs were planted on either side of his hips, he was ashamed to feel his growing arousal pressed into her thigh.

She pulled back, sweat gathering on her forehead.

"If you touch me, I am sure that it will make things more bearable for the both of us."

He nodded dazedly and carefully placed his hands on the tops of her fair, slim thighs. The skirt of her dress had ridden up quite high, baring her lovely legs to him… Wait, he thought, Lovely? This girl is just a child! Self disgust had made him frown, how could he even consider deflowering the Pharaoh's daughter? He suddenly remembered Anck-su-Namun and their turbulent relationship, it was already hanging by a thread as it was.

"No, Nefertiri I cannot do this." He tried to push her off but she clung to him tightly.

"I need this, Imhotep. Or are you too repulsed by me to even consider doing me a favor?"

He was suddenly irritated. "Do not make this about your vanity. It is your fault you ingested that vile potion to begin with."

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. She rolled off of him, stung by his rebuke, and she straightened out her dress with shaking hands.

"Good night, Imhotep."

She stole away from him hastily, but he could still make out the sound of her sobs from the corridor. Unfortunately, she did not make it past there, her head throbbed and her body simply could not move. Nefertiri collapsed onto the floor, convulsing uncontrollably. Imhotep ran to her and tried to steady her but the more he tried to calm her down, the more she flailed about.

Her eyes were glazed with pain, they seemed to cry out to him. This was the strongest lust potion he ever saw, the dosage of aphrodisiac was clearly very high if she was reacting so violently to his denial. He took the only course of action that was plausible, he bent down and kissed her.

After a few seconds, the convulsions slowed and eventually stopped. He could feel the change in her, she was no longer out of control. Her arms snaked around his waist tightly, pressing him down into her body. She was not a bad kisser, but she had a lot to learn.

With a strength that belied his unease, he lifted both of them off the floor and helped her back into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut and watched as she fell back onto the bed, relief that he had given in displayed on her features. He hoped the Pharaoh and Anck-su-Namun would forgive him for what he was about to do.

Imhotep moved to the bed and climbed into it, positioning himself over her on his hands and knees.

"I am sorry, Imhotep. I know about you and Anck-su-Namun." She whispered sadly.

He felt a jolt when he saw understanding and sorrow in her blue eyes. He did not want to think about Anck right now, not when he was about to betray her. So he ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping a tear away.

"It's alright, Your Highness. Everything will be alright."

She wanted desperately to believe him as he moved down her body, licking, caressing, easing her unnaturally enhanced appetite. As she screamed his name in ecstasy, she almost did.

* * *

TBC…

A/N: Please review!


	2. Doomed Epiphany

* * *

Chapter Two: Doomed Epiphany

* * *

She slept quite irregularly after the first time. Imhotep could not sleep at all. He just watched her, breathing softly through parted lips. He had an arm wrapped around her, his fingers traced languid patterns on the skin of her back.

It was not all that unpleasant really. Actually, it was quite the opposite. The effects of the potion were very apparent, she seemed to be like an animal, focused on one thing and that was achieving release. From what he knew of lust potions, they were intended to induce nymphomania in the drinker, and if the lust was not acted upon, they sent the drinker into epileptic convulsions not unlike Nefertiri's.

He knew this for a fact not because he took them himself, but because from time to time Seti required a similar potion to cure his sterility. It was a secret no one knew save for him and the Pharaoh. There was nothing more humiliating than being impotent especially when one was in the possession of a harem full of beautiful women.

It must have been three or four o'clock in the morning, he could not tell. It was still dusky, he still had time. He wondered where Anck-su-Namun was and if she had any idea of the recent goings-on. She was most likely awake already since she was an early riser and restless sleeper, already preparing her body with paint for the day.

Imhotep loved her. He did. He loved the fierce passion that was hidden under her façade of cold indifference, that feisty quality she retained despite her status as a concubine. They had not known each other personally for very long before they became lovers. Imhotep knew he never wanted to let her go.

However, there was a new complication. Nefertiri's predicament was solely his responsibility and she had inadvertently sexually imprinted herself on him. No other man's touch could soothe her but his own, and Osiris knew how long the potion's effects would last! Judging from the power of her withdrawal symptoms, he assumed it would be at least one week before it ended.

Also, how ever was he supposed to explain this to the Pharaoh? There was no way out of this. He had taken the princess' virginity and she was marked as his. There was no other solution than his marriage to Nefertiri. This was highly unorthodox, never before had a Pharaoh's daughter married someone outside the Royal family. But the law was the law, and even the Pharaoh could not break it without displeasing the gods.

Before long, she stirred again and woke up. The vulnerability in her face elicited sympathy from him, she must have been so dismayed at being this dependent on him. He who was six years her senior, older, wiser, and already spoken for. There was an elegant sadness about her, as if she was resigned to her fate and was trying to fare as best she could.

"How are you feeling?" He asked for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. His voice sounded about as tired as she looked.

"Better." Nefertiri answered truthfully. The compulsion had eased considerably since her last climax, it had dulled to a steady but ever present throbbing. She stared at him curiously. His fingers still roamed the skin of her back, making her wonder if he did not resent the situation he was in.

"You do not have to do that."

Imhotep arched an eyebrow.

"Do what?"

"Pretend that this is acceptable. I know there are probably a thousand things you'd rather do than have me in your bed."

He was taken aback by her caustic comment, her self-deprecation scalding even to him. In a fit of moodiness, the princess turned to the other side and let out an exhalation expressing all the frustration she felt. She wriggled out of his arms, insisting on getting away from him.

"I am just a child to you." Nefertiri mumbled sorrowfully, "A stupid twat who listened to her impulses and got her just desserts."

"Your Highness, those men who attacked you forced you to take the potion had the intention of raping you. This was their way of…preparing you to welcome their advances." Imhotep cringed inwardly at the wording of his sentence.

"And now you are stuck with me. Let us face the fact that my father will sooner or later know about this and he will command our marriage. Then you'll never have Anck-su-Namun and I shall never be Queen of Egypt. What a pair of idiots we make, Imhotep."

By the time she finished speaking, he realized she was in tears again. He wanted to reach out to her but knowing her snappish tendencies, he held back in case she took offense.

"I do not think that is so, my dear. If it makes you feel any better, I shall begin an inquiry in an attempt to bring your attackers to justice."

"Imhotep, all I want is for this to be over as quietly as possible, or I will never live it down. Everyone in my household will see to that." Nefertiri remarked bitterly, still facing away from him.

"That is how I feel as well, princess." He concurred gently.

As much as he did not want to hurt her feelings, the thought of being married to Nefertiri while he loved Anck-su-Namun was a terrible one. It was difficult enough as it was, and he predicted that Anck would never forgive him if she found out about this.

Dawn was quickly approaching, he saw the gradual lightening of the sky through the window adjacent to the bed. He would have to prepare for the day soon and ready Osiris' meal, a daily ritual that only he could perform. Nefertiri would have to report to the palace and explain herself to her father.

Imhotep was lost in his thoughts when Nefertiri laid a hesitant hand on his forearm. The look in her eyes was a clashing mixture of need and repulsion. The latter stung him, but he tried his best to hide it. He knew what she meant by that look. She needed him again, and for some reason he repulsed her. Nothing hurt a man's pride more than a woman's dissatisfaction with his body.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter and took a look at her. Nefertiri's cheeks were rosy pink and her long wavy locks were mussed. She looked enticing, loathe as he was to admit it, yet he still saw the child she had been despite the eloquent slope of her long neck and the alluring curve of her eyelashes. He winced as he wondered what she imagined him as. Her former teacher, decades older than her, a lecherous man too.

"Tell me what you need."

The words and the husky manner in which they were delivered sent unwilling tingles down the princess' spine. Her toes curled in anticipation and she bit her bottom lip lightly.

"Your hands…your mouth," whispered Nefertiri as she averted his probing gaze, "Like before."

He nodded silently and reached for her, slowly pulling away the cotton sheet from her person. She clung to it shyly until it was all the way off of her. Now that it was lighter outside, Imhotep was able to see more of her and he was surprised to find that she was indeed a beautiful woman. Nefertiri looked at everything but him as he grazed her collarbone with his thumb.

His thumb was shortly followed by his lips, which nibbled on her sweet skin and travelled progressively south toward her firm abdomen. Nefertiri was beginning to get lost in her pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut and her hand found its way to his head, caressing him as if urging him on.

Imhotep tried his hardest to imagine that he was simply administering a treatment to a patient, easing someone's pain as a good physician would do. But he found that the more he made love to her, the more his impassiveness resolved and eagerness began to take its place. He reveled in her vocal responses, so unlike Anck-su-Namun, and sought to elicit stronger and stronger reactions. Although he knew there was no need to further arouse her since the potion accounted for that, he enjoyed teasing her gently.

Two fingers slowly delved into the moist opening between her legs. He noticed that her hands had clenched around the sheets as he gradually increased the rhythm of his digits. Imhotep tilted his gaze upward to stare at the wanton girl he was pleasuring, torn between shame and pleasure as he blindly stroked his arousal.

Nefertiri opened her eyes with a loud cry, spotting the High Priest between her legs, almost as senseless as she was in his frenzy. His own eyes were half shut and glazed over, so he missed it when she started to weep again. Her lips parted in a half-sob, half-shout of triumph as she reached the apex of her pleasure. Shuddering as it rocked her body, Nefertiri allowed herself to weep in earnest. Imhotep quickly regained control of himself, cursing his recklessness as he tried to soothe her.

"Hush, Your Highness…I am sorry. It will not happen again," With every word, Imhotep's cheeks burned with embarrassment. His loss of self-discipline was mortifying, he knew that she was already uncomfortable with him in the first place and now she was downright disgusted by him. He tried to ignore the curious pang in his chest as he held her.

"Oh no, Imhotep. It's not that-" She broke off in an endearing hiccup. "I must be a terrible lover. I have no memories to compare this with, everything is so strange and new to me. You must forgive my ignorance in these matters."

Astonishment flashed across his features. He contemplated the irony of a virgin apologizing for her inexperience yet he could find no humor in the ridiculous thought.

"Princess, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I am the one to blame. I lost myself in you, I thought I had hurt you."

Nefertiri stared at him blankly, the trails of her tears drying on her cheeks.

"Oh."

Neither of them could think of anything to say. He did not want to upset her again and she was simply too afraid of making herself look like any more of a fool. Finally, Nefertiri mustered up all of her courage and spoke.

"It is not stopping. I need you again."

"Again?" He said a little more loudly than he intended, with a certain amount of exasperation and disbelief in his tone. She looked stricken at his outcry.

"I am sorry." Nefertiri murmured.

Imhotep studied her, knowing that there was nothing she could do about her the condition of her body or her raging libido. He reflected with some irony that most men would be delighted if a woman with this condition were thrust unceremoniously upon them. Imhotep, however, was not most men.

"I know a way to prolong the compulsion." He said flatly.

He had sincerely hoped that it would not come to this but clearly the aphrodisiac in her blood was running high. She trained her gaze on something in the distance, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. Judging by the expression on Nefertiri's face, she probably could guess what he was proposing.

"…Alright." She said firmly.

"Lay down for me." He instructed as easily as he could manage. There was a lump forming in his throat. There was no turning back now, the two of them were embarking on a road that they could not escape. She looked like she was thinking along the same lines as she settled back on the cushions.

Imhotep crawled on top of her, supporting the bulk of his weight on his forearms that were planted above her shoulders. She kept her eyes locked with his the whole time, fearing that if she looked anywhere else, she would break.

"I will not lie to you, this will hurt at first."

Nefertiri nodded steadily, even though all she could think about was the inexplicable urge to be filled by this man. His handsome, troubled face swam in and out of her vision. She waited silently for a few moments, wondering impatiently when he would do the deed, and suddenly there was a stinging, ripping pain down below, and then boundless pleasure as he moved with her.

Any discomfort she felt quickly disappeared and was replaced with an unquenchable fire. Her hips seemed to move on their own accord, striving, striving for _something_ she could not name. These feelings were so foreign, so delicious to her that she felt like she was drunk on it, intoxicated with the sensation his body elicited from her. She was so taut with need that she felt like a highly strung harp that was begging to be strummed by his long, dexterous fingers.

She forgot herself as she made love to him, imagining that he was a willing lover whose joy it was to touch her so intimately. Little did Imhotep know that her heart was quickly wrapping itself around him, treasuring every sigh, every feeling, and every image as she knew he would never hold her again like this once she was purged of the potion's effects.

"Am...Am I doing this right?" She asked, self-consciously.

"If you feel any kind of pleasure, my princess, then yes."

"Do you feel pleasure, Imhotep?"

Her sweet words and vulnerability made him groan as he rocked his hips into her.

"I must admit that, yes, it is adequate, Your Highness."

In an effort to somehow make this experience as incredible for him as it was for her, she ran her hands lightly over his pectorals and watched as his eyes widened at the contact. She smiled a little and then moaned when he thrusted more deeply than before. Her legs were wrapped high around his waist and she squeezed tightly, amplifying the impact of their movement.

"Kiss me, Imhotep." Nefertiri breathed.

While taken aback by her forwardness, he complied with her request because he was lost in the moment and it seemed like the right thing to do. His lips were passionate, almost clumsy, as he felt her melt beneath him. He could not deny that Nefertiri was a siren, her unwitting allure enhanced by her innocence. Anck-su-Namun had long since grown used to his touch, and even during their first time, there was a small voice in the back of his mind that questioned her claim to be a virgin. She seemed too knowing of what he would do, anticipating him as he took her.

His fervor was building and so was hers- he could tell from the way she arched her back and closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the slow ascent. He leaned down and kissed her bare neck, surprising her with his tenderness. In response, she caressed his back with her agile fingers, teasing him, maddening him until his world exploded in a flash of sound, sweaty flesh and pure bliss.

She followed him into the depths of her , crying out and shuddering uncontrollably.

When the both of them had calmed down, Imhotep collapsed on top of her, resting his head on the soft skin of her abdomen. His breathing was slowing steadily as sleep seemed to beckon him into its dark abyss. Nefertiri sighed, allowing her hand to meander to his head and caress him slowly.

"It is almost dawn," She murmured. "Almost time to rise."

"Yes," Imhotep agreed. A yawn escaped his mouth, and his eyes fluttered shut.

They rested upon the cushions, tangled in each other, for several moments. Then she was compelled to speak.

"Imhotep?"

He had been meandering between sleep and consciousness when he was pulled back to reality by her voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

He looked down at her, overcome by a sudden rush of pity for the child, and he held her as if they were not lovers, but very close friends. Nefertiri felt the sudden change in him and was hurt by her epiphany. She had loved this man for half of her life, how could he ever know the truth now that their relationship was tainted by her utterly foolish mistake?

She closed her eyes to the world and wished for peace from this unrelenting hammering of emotions that filled her heart with sorrow.

TBC...

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I very much appreciate the reviews I've gotten for this story, I hope you haven't given up on me!


	3. Silhouettes and Dreams

Title: Even Angels Fall

A/N: Here's the next chapter! If you're an Anck su Namun fan, this chapter probably isn't for you then. But if you're all for Nef/Immy, feel free to keep reading, lol! BTW, happy belated Halloween everyone!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. This story is purely for fun.

* * *

Chapter Three: Silhouettes and Dreams

* * *

Rising had been much more difficult than Imhotep thought it would be. His habit was to be up and about long before the sun rose, to prepare the ritual meal for the statues of the gods and attends to certain tasks the Pharaoh appointed him. Today, he nearly fell from his bed due to a vicious case of vertigo, as well as disorientation at the sight of the naked princess sprawled luxuriously across the cotton sheets.

The mirrors that reflected the sun from the outside did their part as he moved them into their proper positions; in hopes that he would not further embarrass himself by stumbling around in the dark. Within seconds his bedchamber was softly illuminated. Nefertiri frowned as she awoke while trying to readjust to the sudden ambience of the room.

"Good morning," She murmured at him, stretching her sinewy back contentedly. She seemed blithely unaware of the fact that her body was bared to him in broad daylight, his eyes were ashamedly drawn to the rounded perfection of her alabaster breasts, the sweet flesh of her belly and hips. The moment had ended however, and the princess quickly came back to her senses by grabbing the sheet and covering herself.

"Will you be alright?" Imhotep asked impassively. He dared not show any emotion, this was not a morning for such languorous intimacy. He cared not to foster any hopes within the girl, for it would only shatter her later in time.

"I feel fine, now. You may go." The girl, perceptive as she was, somehow knew he wished to return to their previous roles of high priest and royal princess. He was amazed by her ability to assume command of the situation so smoothly in so few words. He supposed when one is a child of the most powerful man in the land, one learns to handle themselves with the utmost dignity no matter the situation.

"You dismiss me from my own quarters?" He laughed, breaking his façade of schooled indifference. The irony was just too amusing for him.

Nefertiri haughtily raised an eyebrow at him and he was startled once more when she allowed the sheet to fall a little lower, exposing the tops of her breasts and collarbone. She used the suggestion of her nudity as a skilled warrior, despite her ignorance when it came to the sordid deed itself, she quickly learned how to control his gaze.

"Have you forgotten that we are to leave this place together, in order to explain your abrupt return to the palace?" He retorted gently.

He had bested her, and she knew it. Unwillingly, she rose from the mattress with the sheet still wrapped around her body. Imhotep forced himself to look only at her forehead and the top of her hair, the sheet was nearly transparent and the light left little to his imagination. He could still smell her subtle fragrance on his own skin, and the scent triggered memories of animalistic passion from the night before.

"Where is my dress?" She growled softly in defeat. Imhotep watched as she hunted around the room for the lost garment, amused at her grumbling beneath her breath. She was still a child in so many ways.

"Turn away, please," The princess pleaded as she finally retrieved her dress from beneath the bed. "And do not turn around."

"You seem to have no recollection that I know your body quite well by now. What difference does it make whether I look or not?" Imhotep said bemusedly, yet he turned the opposite direction anyway.

"It makes all the difference in the world, High Priest. Ra has extended his light unto all corners of the world, and I infinitely prefer the darkness where only silhouettes and dreams are visible."

He heard the rustling of the fabric as she slid into it and released his bed sheet. A few seconds passed tensely, for Imhotep's treacherous mind conjured the image of the girl as she dressed, and then it imagined how it would feel to make love to her again and lose himself once more in her beauty.

Nefertiri was struggling to tie the last string at the base of her neck when she felt a pair of tentative hands halt her progress. With furrowed brows, she turned and faced the perplexing man who looked as if he were going to kiss her then and there.

"What are you doing?"

He deigned not to answer as if the answer might hurt her. That seemed to be all that he was capable of, and he was deeply regretful for his irreparable nature.

So the man let his lips convey his apology, his tongue translated the compassion he felt for her, and through some miraculous feat of understanding, Nefertiri knew exactly what he meant. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her closer than she thought he was comfortable with.

And when the princess felt the comfort of his kiss, a feeling of such acute anguish washed over her that she was compelled to push him away roughly. The look upon the High Priest's face was of startled bewilderment.

"I am Pharaoh's daughter. Do not touch me without my permission." Nefertiri teased lightly in hopes of masking the rush of want that attacked her after he kissed her. Without another word, she finally finished tying her dress and began to walk out of the chambers, not even waiting to see if he followed.

Imhotep did of course, after he snapped out of his daze, he fell into step behind her as they left the Temple and proceeded to the Pharaoh's palace. Stepping out into the world once more was immensely difficult for him, for Imhotep felt as if the people could tell what he had been doing and the shame that he held in his heart for betraying the one he loved.

Before the princess could enter the threshold, Imhotep placed a hand on her forearm with a warning look on his features.

"Where were you last night, Your Highness?"

"At the market. I had been dancing for several hours, dallying with some of the villagers and merchants in their festival. That was where you discovered me."

"And?"

"I was too tired to face my father, so I spent the night in the Temple where I could sleep and recover my strength."

He nodded satisfactorily when she seemed to know her cover story. Her unquestionable intelligence was reliable, he solely worried for the Pharaoh's tendency to snap and his short temper. The Medjai pulled the doors open for her with their eyes lowered respectfully, but he could see that there was a hint of wry amusement in their eyes.

It made Imhotep's lips quirk tensely, he shot the two guards an irritated glare before continuing through to the throne room. The walls glittered ominously, the light from outside did not reach this impenetrable room. He wondered if it was the monarch's intent to create such a room for the purpose of making the inhabitants nervous because the effect on him was certainly working on him.

He sneaked a discreet glance at the princess beside him, wondering if she felt as he did, or if she was simply used to having to beg for her father's forgiveness. The gods knew each and every member of the Egyptian royal court has had to plead with the king for amnesty at least once in their lifetime.

Nefertiri stood tall and proudly, heedless of the plain appearance of her clothes, yet she was unmistakably a princess from the way she carried herself. Her face was schooled into a convincing look of calmness, the only betrayal of her feeling ill at ease was the way her right hand clenched and unclenched around the cloth of her skirt.

A loud clattering of feet had alerted them to the impending arrival of the Pharaoh. Imhotep looked on as a flurry of servants scrambled to assemble the throne, the fruits laid upon the small tables of gold, and assume some sort of general order before their master appeared.

Without ceremony, or any other illustrious announcements, the king stepped through the massive entrance way and stalked up to his throne. Imhotep noticed the man's slight limp, it seemed with age, the Pharaoh's leg problem bothered him more and more. The injury had been sustained after a frightful fall from a horse's back when he was a boy. Youth had allowed the Pharaoh to disguise his pain, but now it was ever so apparent that the man was growing old very quickly.

The servants lay prostrate on the floor, unmoving as though they were dead, before their sovereign. It was only the princess and the high priest that remained standing.

The silence between the three of them was full of words unspoken. There was no sign of concern in the king's eyes, only cold displeasure at having been deceived by his eldest child.

"So you have returned." The Pharaoh simpered smoothly. Imhotep winced inwardly. He knew this tone well, it was the one the king adopted before he was about to unleash an enormous diatribe.

"Yes, father. I am well, in case you wished to know."

The insolence in Nefertiri's voice was palpable. It was the inevitable catalyst of the following explosion.

"You damned chit, have you any idea about the repercussions of your actions? Your silly tomfoolery has brought embarrassment to our family and reputation. Everyone is talking about it, the palace is aflame with scandalous rumors and I am furious to say that most are probably true! _What_ were you thinking?"

Surprisingly, the girl did not shrink under the insults thrown at her, she seemed to grow taller if that was possible. The high priest stepped back so his presence would not inexplicably inflame the Pharaoh's temper even more.

"Father, I believed it would do no harm. After all, I only danced and wandered about the market."

The king turned a livid reddish purple at the gall of his daughter.

"Because of _you,"_ He spat, "My authority is undermined! How will my subjects continue to obey me and carry out my decrees when my own flesh and blood does not? How shall I reinforce my command over my kingdom when I cannot even control my own household?"

"If you are a fair and kind ruler, a benign king, sire, then your fears would be unfounded. If you are a patient and forgiving father, you will have a benign and obedient daughter-"

She never finished her sentence because the Pharaoh swooped down from his dais and delivered such a powerful slap to her face that Nefertiri crumpled under the blow. She collapsed with a loud cry and shielded herself from his angry fists with her arms.

Imhotep had seen enough. He stepped in to intervene and remind the king that he was still in the room.

"Majesty, please be at peace. Nefertiri understands the consequences of her deeds. I have taken it upon myself to discipline her. Concern yourself not with the status of your repute, it remains intact, sire. Have mercy on your daughter."

Staring at his chief advisor, the Pharaoh seemed to revert to his usual attitude. His breathing was labored, however, and he winced as he placed his weight on his tender leg. His ill temper was not completely gone because he was once again reminded of his advanced age.

Imhotep helped Nefertiri stand, he was startled to see a deep cut groove on her pale cheek from where one of the Pharaoh's rings had stricken her.

"Kiss my hand, Nefertiri." The older man demanded. His tone was every bit the tone of an autocratic ruler. He clearly meant to dismiss them, but not without humiliating Nefertiri just a touch more. Imhotep was filled with sorrow at the sight of the princess's eyes, no child should endure such treatment from a parent.

A moment passed and nothing happened, he was fearful that her reticence would incite Pharaoh's rage, but at the last second she barely placed her lips upon her father's hand and then withdrew as if she were touching filth. Pharaoh threw his arms into the air with a growl and turned to leave. He was followed out by all of his servants and a few of his favorites of the harem.

When the room was silent again, he turned back to the princess to inspect the cut on her cheek. It had bled and a severe bruise was beginning to form around the broken skin.

"Have your maids draw you a bath, Your Highness. And remember, no face paints around this until it has healed."

Nefertiri scoffed and swatted away his hands.

"I do not wear cosmetics." She shot at him angrily. With that, she took her leave of him and left in the opposite direction her father had.

Imhotep stood alone in the center of the empty hall, his head throbbing with distress at the event he just witnessed, as well as the steady decline of the most powerful man in the realm who still had no heir.

Unbeknownst to the high priest, Anck Su Namun remained hidden behind one of the pillars in the back of the chamber. She walked into the open when she was sure Imhotep was not paying attention. From the look of him, she realized he was lost deep in thought, especially since he did not notice her until she was right behind him.

He looked startled when he discovered her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard the commotion. I decided to see what it was all about. I thought it would be interesting but it was only the little girl groveling to His majesty. Not too much of a surprise, I gathered."

Something about Anck's flippant tone struck a chord inside him, it left him feeling very ill tempered.

"She has faced much these past hours. You would do well to regard Nefertiri with more respect."

Her dark brow arched elegantly in inquisition. "She is a precocious brat, you have said so yourself."

"Opinions can change swifter than the weather during the rainy season, my Anck." Imhotep admitted mysteriously.

"Enough of that. I do not wish to talk about _her._ I have missed you," She sidled up to him, suave as an asp before it killed its prey, and placed her arms carefully about his shoulders. He looked down at her face, so thick with all sorts of paint and cosmetics that he could hardly distinguish between her true characteristics and what was only illusion.

Such a wave of inexplicable revulsion overtook him that he could not bring himself to kiss her. Anck Su Namun sensed his disgust and was offended. She withdrew her hands, feeling simultaneously bitter and confused.

"You are in a foul mood. I shall return when it has improved."

He nodded in silent reply, watching as she retreated until she was out of his sight. The feel of her in his arms was somehow _wrong_, he could not summon any sort of affection for her at all! The sensation was intriguing. He mused that it was probably another unfortunate effect of Nefertiri's lust potion. She must have transmitted it to him during the night, through her saliva or sweat, which he did not know.

What bothered him most was the fact that when he thought of Anck, her glamorous face could not be outshined by the radiant innocence of Nefertiri's.

_I am losing myself,_ Imhotep thought darkly as he returned to the Temple of Osiris, a place where his role was clear cut and well defined for him.

* * *

Nefertiri, on the other hand, retreated to her apartments. Her maids were noisily chattering, no doubt about their mistress' misadventure, and lounging about the place like they had no chores or obligations to fulfill.

When she burst through the doors with a murderous look on her face, the room immediately fell silent and still. At once, three of her senior handmaidens rushed forward to help her.

"Draw me a bath. And the water had better be ready within the hour."

All of the girls snapped to attention and set about their tasks as Nefertiri walked to her chaise sofa and reclined comfortably upon it. She closed her eyes against the impending tears that had been threatening to fall since she fell to the floor in the throne room.

"Highness?" A voice whispered softly.

Nefertiri looked up at the face of Ashayt, the girl who had betrayed her confidence. At first, her instinct was to verbally abuse her maid, fling insults and injustices as her father did, but in defiance of the tendency, she instead patted the seat beside her and welcomed her to sit.

Warily, Ashayt took a seat. She could see the strain on her mistress, and her insatiable curiosity caused her to wonder about what had transpired.

"I know you are angry with me, Highness. I am sorry for it. His Majesty threatened to beat me," The young maid pleaded.

Nefertiri raised the palm of her hand to halt Ashayt's tumbling words of contrition. She felt too tired to summon any wrath. She was drained and exhausted, all she wanted was someone whom she could talk to.

"It's all gone to madness, my dear Ashayt." The princess's voice trembled.

"Tell me, highness."

A ritual that had existed between them since girlhood was to tell each other of their troubles because there was no other way to decompress such tension, especially for Nefertiri.

"Did he strike you?"

"Clearly," Nefertiri deadpanned. "He was so enraged, more than he'd ever been with me. I believe someone's turning him against me. In all of my years, you know that my father favored me. That favor has shifted and I've no idea how to regain his good grace. I reckon it's that awful Anck su Namun. She is a viper, a harlot who seeks to gain my mother's rank. And worst of all, she is succeeding!"

"She is indeed shameless. I saw her earlier with the High Priest Imhotep. She tried to kiss him in broad daylight just after the Pharaoh left!"

This revelation induced a violent pang of jealousy in Nefertiri. She knew that she would have to share Imhotep, but she never imagined it would hurt her so greatly. She felt as if she were drowning, clutching at the rope that would bring her to salvation and it was that damned Anck su Namun who was steadily pulling it further and further out of her reach. She already had both of Nefertiri's men wrapped around her little finger, how much more could the whore possibly steal besides her place on the Egyptian throne as well?

"And did she succeed? Tell me the truth."

Ashayt's eyes flashed dubiously.

"They had a minor argument and then parted ways. I greeted him as he came out of the throne room, but he paid me no mind."

This information gave the princess a modicum of satisfaction, but it did nothing to ease the longing her body suffered from so constantly.

"There's something else, isn't there, princess?"

"It's all very complicated. I'm not sure that I am ready to explain as of this moment." She murmured.

The two of them fell back into silence when it was announced that her bath was ready. Nefertiri gratefully sank into the cleansing water, where she concentrated only on the memories of Imhotep's lips on her skin.

* * *

TBC…


	4. The Ultimate Surrender

Title: Even Angels Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, no copyright infringement intended.

Summary: I was trolling through iTunes and I found that Jessica Riddle has a song called "Even Angels Fall." I think I've listened to the sample before, but I never bought it. I guess I inadvertently borrowed the song title, haha. Also, there are two lemons ahead. ;P

* * *

Chapter Four: The Ultimate Surrender

* * *

In the velvety depths of the night, the ladies in waiting were startled into consciousness when their mistress' cries were finally loud enough to wake them. Ashayt stumbled out of her cot and hurried to the bedchamber, accompanied by two of the younger maids, to see what Nefertiri was suffering from. She was shocked to notice that even in the dim candlelight, the princess's skin was profusely sweaty yet it retained its alabaster color. Her eyelids fluttered open and then blinked rapidly in growing awareness.

"Your Highness-"

She was cut off with a single desperate cry, "Fetch Imhotep at once!"

Nothing else needed to be said. Ashayt flew out of the chamber as if Anubis and his army were snapping at her heels. The guards did not deign to stop her as she passed corridor by corridor, down the long, flat staircase, through yet more corridors until she exited the palace and reached the Temple of Osiris. She was half timid, half wild when she entered the temple, fear for Osiris and concern for the princess left her reeling with distress.

Thankfully, she did not have to search for very long, Imhotep's priests directed her to the inner sanctum where she discovered him meditating. Unsure of how to get his attention without offending him, Ashayt fidgeted in place, hoping that sooner or later he would notice that he was not alone.

"How may I help you?" Imhotep questioned softly, still with his eyes closed. He remained seated in front of the statue of Osiris and it seemed as if her presence had not interrupted his meditation at all.

"It is the princess. She is ill, sir."

Even though he had his back turned to her, Ashayt could tell that her news brought him tension. His previously languid posture became rigid and as he stood, she could tell he was worried. There was something that she was missing, she knew that from the start, but how it involved this man, she did not know nor did she care to stick her nose in other people's business. That could only get her into more trouble.

"Which princess?"

The question caught her off guard. She presumed he knew which princess she spoke of, yet his eyes held a semblance of confusion.

"Sir? You know which one I mean." She frowned in response.

His eyes only seemed to grow more frantic, it was as if his life depended on which princess she told him it was.

"Her Royal Highness, the princess Nefertiri, sir."

The High Priest exhaled and steadied himself rapidly, his composure was regained in a flash. Ashayt inwardly marveled at his resolve and supposed that this ability was why Imhotep was such a successful man in the court.

"Lead me to her, Ashayt."

* * *

The room had been kept lit by a few scattered candles while the balcony drapes were left open so that the cool night breeze could sweep through to provide relief for Nefertiri's burning skin. Imhotep took note of her lying on her side, faced the other direction. He knew she was ashamed, her silence spoke volumes to him.

He took the initiative to dismiss the curious maids and told them not to return to the princess's apartments until the morning. Imhotep stepped slowly to her bedside and perched himself at the edge of the mattress.

Nefertiri was startled at the shift in weight on the mattress, she rolled over painfully to see if it was indeed the man she desired.

"Thank the gods!"

Before he could prepare himself, he felt her scramble gracelessly towards him and plant a thorough, unsophisticated kiss upon his mouth. The force of it knocked him flat on his back, the two of them had fallen on the floor. Imhotep was momentarily stunned at the way she pounced on him, but somehow the feel of her body pressed on top of his managed to negate any pain he felt from landing on the marble floor.

When her lips released him, he sucked in a quick breath and grabbed her by the waist.

"Has the compulsion grown so out of proportion?"

The princess glared down at him in annoyance.

"What do you think, silly man?"

With that, she kissed him again, all lips and teeth and tongue, but this time he actively participated. This seemed to delight her, she yielded the fierce grip she kept on his shoulders and he took advantage of this by sitting up and nudging her back onto the bed.

She fell back with ease, by now, the aphrodisiac rampaging through her blood left her breathless and dizzy. The feral look in her eyes drew a shiver of excitement from him, once again he was accosted by a shock of surprise. He was not used to being able to see her so clearly during these encounters.

"Undress me, Imhotep."

He obeyed the command readily, nearly tearing off her linen shift. His vestments were disposed of by her quivering hands and tossed into the corner of the room. The wind from outside caressed their bare skin and flitted through her silken waves.

"Touch me." She whispered, and time seemed to halt its rapid progression.

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, did his slightly roughened hands cover her flushed skin. The tortured gasps that escaped her left him filled with urgency, urgency that made him afraid of himself. What was he becoming? He did not know who he was when he was with her, and that alone scared him greatly.

"I can't," He choked, beholding her frightening beauty through strangely hazy eyes.

"Please, Imhotep."

"Nai!" He cried, even as his hand parted her thighs and discovered the very place that made her arch deliciously.

The strokes of his hand were definitely pleasant, but the princess ached to be filled as he did for her the previous night. She was too far gone to care about modesty or propriety when she demanded all of him. All she could concentrate on was achieving that feeling of supreme lightness, crashing relief that only he could provide for her.

"Please-"She said again.

Against all opposing reason, Imhotep did as he was told and gave into the devilish temptation. He took her gently, tenderly, and watched the ravenous expression on her face as they moved in such discordant harmony.

She hurtled into the abyss of release headfirst, shouting his name in satiated satisfaction. The perfection of her doe-like eyes beckoned him to follow, every impulse in his shattered body also beckoned him toward the lovely promise of culmination, but the fear inside him took control at last.

When she was finished, he tore himself out of her embrace and away from her bed. As soon as he was dressed, he wordlessly fled from her chambers, leaving Nefertiri spent upon her sheets of gold.

While the High Priest stormed back to the temple of Osiris, a pair of narrowed eyes observed him. They belonged to none other than Anck su Namun. She was all too familiar with the expression on the high priest's face because until now, she was the only instigator of such frantic nervousness. She saw how the corridor's torch lights illuminated his sweaty skin and definitely noticed the disarray of his clothing.

She did not know for certain what was going on, but she had her suspicions. Imhotep had a new lover, but who could it be?

* * *

Nefertiri went through her day normally, rising early, dressing with unhurried care, nibbling on a light breakfast before tutoring with the scholar Assad. She was peaceful due to her encounter with Imhotep the night before, although she was disappointed with his persistent conflicting emotions.

She shrugged it off for the meantime, because there was nothing she could do about it. She would question him later when the time was right. For now, she had nothing to do but focus on her current tasks.

After tutoring ended at the midday mark, Nefertiri took another light meal of bread and salted fish. She rested outside in her canopied pavilion, watching her father's younger children play carelessly in the gardens. Once she was finished Nefertiri retreated to the interior of the palace for her lessons with Anck su Namun in preparation for the ceremony where her father would name the next guardian of the Bracelet of Anubis.

Today she had a greater sense of foreboding, an inexplicable feeling brought on by Nefertiri's drastically changed relationship with Anck su Namun's lover. She breathed deeply a few times to calm her fraying nerves and then entered the ornate room awarded to her teacher on behalf of her father.

"Good afternoon, Highness." The dark woman said enigmatically.

Another thing that the princess hated about her was that she was extremely difficult to read.

"Same to you."

"Let us not waste time on such frivolous pleasantries. I thought we should take up the scythes today."

One elegant eyebrow arched in response. The princess eyed the gleaming gold scythes on the table before her, and then she glanced back at the other woman.

"Scythes? Farmer's tools. Surely you do not expect me to fight with such inferior weapons at my father's ceremony."

"When you are fighting for your life, princess, often times, one does not have the luxury of choosing one's weapons. Although they are a common man's tools, I am sure you will find them just as deadly as any rapier or sword."

Nefertiri remained silent, thinking of the damage she could inflict with these crude yet seemingly effective tools.

"Shall we begin?"

"Of course," Nefertiri said steadily.

She was a little uncomfortable with the edgy gleam of Anck su Namun's obsidian eyes. It was as if she was trying to discern something within Nefertiri, like she was probing for information that could be learned only through subterfuge.

Both women picked up their weapons, each held a scythe in both hands.

They moved to the center of the room, standing close enough within weapon's reach. The Pharaoh's guards who always oversaw these lessons stood at attention on the sides of the room.

"Your move, Highness." Black eyes flashed dangerously.

Nefertiri wasted no time. She lunged forward, quick as a cat, but she expected to be blocked at first. Her scythe made a loud clanking noise as it clashed with Anck su Namun's. Not easily deterred, Nefertiri spun around and swung her leg in a ferocious kick, only to find herself striking thin air. The agility with which Anck su Namun moved was surprising, especially when Nefertiri spotted the gold blade swiftly approaching her face.

"Ah!" She cried in alarm as she dodged the blow, disconcerted by the unmistakable rush of air that followed the swing of Anck su Namun's arm.

The senior guard chose that moment to intervene.

"You are out of line, Mistress. Attempted strikes at the princess's head are explicitly forbidden."

Anck su Namun paused in contemplation. She narrowed her eyes and bowed to Nefertiri.

"My apologies, Highness."

"Save them for later," Nefertiri snarled in obvious irritation.

They dove back into the duel, each woman moving with increasing speed and strength. Anck su Namun was on the offensive, pushing Nefertiri back several feet with frightening swings of her weapons. Nefertiri parried every one but the bone jarring impact of the hits sent chills down her spine. For some reason, she sensed a more pronounced hatred within Anck su Namun. It made absolutely no sense, hadn't she gotten exactly what she wanted? She had seen Nefertiri humiliated before her father, and risen even higher in favor.

With this thought in mind, Nefertiri felt a renewed surge of power and she fiercely threw off the other woman with a kick to her gut. As Anck su Namun staggered back, Nefertiri stepped forward and swung at her with her scythes, turning gracefully as one scythe followed another. Once again she missed, but at least the move reversed their roles, Nefertiri was the aggressor now.

She growled fiercely as she struck at her opponent. Because Anck su Namun was preoccupied with the precision of Nefertiri's strikes, she neglected to consider that the princess had a plan. She parried skillfully and smiled smugly.

_And…NOW!_

Nefertiri waited in anticipation for Anck su Namun to swing at her. As she predicted, she aimed for Nefertiri's torso, so she ducked and crouched. While she was down, Nefertiri tripped Anck su Namun so she landed roughly on her back. She held her scythes above Anck su Namun's painted face, as if to emphasize her monumental victory.

She gasped quietly in shock as Nefertiri stood over her triumphantly. At last, the student was defeating the master.

"It seems I should be the one apologizing." Nefertiri murmured, her breathing slightly labored.

Anck su Namun said nothing, looking too furious to form a coherent sentence. She was beaten by a child, her husband's child! It was a dent to her enormous pride and vanity.

Without warning, Anck su Namun leapt to her feet and swung once more. This time, the scythe had hit its' intended target and lodged itself into Nefertiri's forearm.

The shriek which followed the blow was deafening. Nefertiri crumpled to the floor as Anck su Namun tore the weapon out of her flesh. While the princess clutched at her wound, Anck su Namun realized her folly. She had injured a demi goddess, such a crime was not to be taken lightly.

The guards came forward at once to arrest her. Nefertiri looked up and held her hand up.

"No! I do not wish to have her incarcerated. I will recover in time for the ceremony, and I do not know of any other candidate more suited to the challenge than Anck su Namun. Release her, Medjai!"

Reluctantly, the burly men let go of Anck su Namun's bronzed arms. Nefertiri grimaced when she realized that the hopelessly smeared ink on the woman's arms would have to be explained to her father. No doubt, someone would suffer the consequences of touching his mistress. No one would escape without at least a flogging.

She wondered whose side the Pharaoh would take, that of Anck su Namun or her own. Only time would tell.

"Thank you, Highness." Anck su Namun said quietly.

Nefertiri nodded once and then was accosted by the rest of her maids who tended immediately to her bloody arm.

"Where is Ashayt?"She asked of them.

"She has gone to fetch High Priest Imhotep so that he may dress your Highness's wound."

* * *

"What on earth did you two think you were doing? This is the second time in one week that you have managed to sustain an injury." Imhotep chastised Nefertiri as he cleaned the split in her skin. The sharp edge of the scythe had dug a generous gap into her arm that stung terribly. Luckily, Anck su Namun's blade had not penetrated deep enough to prevent usage of her arm, but had it gone deeper Imhotep assured her that she might have lost the capability to use her right arm. Besides the healing cut on her cheek from her father, Nefertiri now had a wounded arm to worry about.

"It was a fair fight, and I won. She got upset. This is the result of my victory."

He met her eyes and smirked. While he had gotten over his initial anger, he was still in a foul mood as he tended to her. Such a gentle spirit did not deserve to be treated so harshly, and that included the curse of lust she suffered from.

"If anything, one can always count on her waspish temper."

"I am a far from docile creature myself, remember. I cannot fault Anck su Namun for succumbing to her rage, after all I've said and done." She admitted with a small chuckle. He grinned in wordless acknowledgement.

They sat a few more moments in silence as Imhotep sewed up her skin and bandaged it. Nefertiri tried not to show her discomfort but there was a second where the shock of pain forced a gasp out of her throat.

"Princess? I am sorry. Just a little longer…"

When he finished, he noticed her staring at him. Immediately, the high priest flushed in self consciousness as he placed his medical instruments back into his satchel. All the while, Nefertiri looked upon him fondly. He was so considerate, fussing over her with tender concern.

"Thank you."

"It was my duty as physician to the Royal Family."

At last, her eyes quit his face. He took his turn to look at her expression, once again struck by the ethereal appearance of the woman. She wore a circlet of gold across her forehead and her wavy hair was draped across her shoulders. Imhotep found himself longing to stroke her smooth cheeks and kiss her lips…

When he was finished packing up, Nefertiri took the opportunity to speak. On a blind impulse, she decided to finally address the reality of their situation. She had waited long enough. It was time for some answers.

"I hope that you can feel some affection for me Imhotep. I know it is not in my place to ask for such generosity, but I could not bear for you to always revert to such coldness even when we are alone."

"I do feel…affection toward you, Princess. Never doubt that. I just do not relish the idea that I must defile your person because of the crime of a rag tag band of crooks. Nefertiri, I am afraid of what is happening to me."

She frowned, compelled by his earnestness.

"I know not what you mean."

The man took a shuddering breath as she noticed that he had still not let go of her arm, in fact, he was absently stroking it with his deft fingers.

"Every time I look at you, I love Anck su Namun less and less. My love for her has defined who I am for such a long time that I do not know who I am without it."

Imhotep, priest of Osiris, stared intensely into Princess Nefertiri's honey eyes and all of a sudden it was as if Helios and his chariot raced above her. The latter revelation was a light of hope that illuminated the priest's true meaning behind his riddle answers. She smiled whole heartedly at him and resolved to explain herself.

"Then I must tell you that I do not consider our joining to be a defilement of me, rather, it has been the affirmation of what I have known for the better part of my own life."

When his eyes widened and mouth slackened, she tightened her hold on his hand but kept her gaze on the floor.

She said nothing more, believing that he had more than enough to think about. Nefertiri did not wish to force him into thinking he felt more than he actually did. She wanted to know how he really felt about her, to allow him to ponder their relationship on his own time.

But little did she know of the power her honest admission had over him, Imhotep looked at the princess like it was the first time he laid eyes on her. It was scarcely a moment before he moved closer to her, wanting all of her at his mercy.

_Osiris knows how I feel. I love her. I want her for my wife…Anck su Namun cannot compare with her. I cannot understand wh_y _I never saw this before! _

"You are sure, Nefertiri? Is this the truth?"

She flicked her eyes from his mouth to his eyes with barely concealed desire. The disarming effect of the gesture made him tremor.

"I have loved you since I met you, Imhotep."

He needed no further confirmation. The rapidity of their confession spurred him on, they were alone in her bedchamber, he had nothing to fear. He kissed her slowly and deliberately. Nefertiri felt her blood rush in anticipation.

She rose from her seat and nestled herself into his lap comfortably. Her face hovered scant inches away from his, tantalizing him with her proximity. He marveled at how she could bring him to the brink of insanity just by kissing him.

His hands joined the game as they tentatively touched her sides and then as he grew more bold, he softly brought them up to caress her bare shoulders. Her dress gave way to his exploring hands, she was naked from the waist up within moments.

"So lovely, my little blossom-"

To punctuate his assertion, he kissed her again, reveling in Nefertiri's moan. The sound wrapped itself around his heart. He wanted nothing more than to spend his entire life drawing such mesmerizing sounds from this goddess of a woman, he held her more snugly when he thought of all the hurt she endured recently.

He broke their kiss to look down at her bandaged arm and sighed with remorse.

"Do not think upon this. Time will heal me, right now I need just you." She pecked him at the corner of his lips and ran her hands over his scalp, eliciting a shiver from him.

"Then you shall have all of me, Nefer."

They adjourned to the bed, whilst moving, the princess shed the rest of her dress and he divested himself of his robes. The dim lighting allowed her to admire his lean musculature and he her curvaceous outline. She was surer of herself tonight, he was content to fall back on the pillows and watch with agitated provocation as she initiated their coupling.

This was paradise, Imhotep decided, as he held her trembling body. Nefertiri let her hands roam all over his hairless chest, marking him as hers and hers alone. No longer did he belong to Anck su Namun, that conniving woman had long lost her claim on his heart when she was bound to Pharaoh.

"Gods! _Yes_!" Imhotep shouted when she tightened around him.

He careened into familiar, blissful satiation when she fell forward and kissed him, swallowing his exhalation of thunderstruck surprise. They basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, neither wanted to move and lose the feeling of utter closeness that they created.

Before long, she had slid off him and nestled into his warm side. She placed an arm across his chiseled stomach and kissed him again for good measure before closing her eyes. He looked at her, smiling widely and pulling the bed sheet over them.

They slept that night, and somehow, all was right.

* * *

TBC…

* * *

A/N: As always, sorry for the wait!! Hope it was worth it, please review, hehe.


	5. The Opet Festival

Title: Even Angels Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, no copyright infringement intended.

A/N: In the event that you all hate me for not updating for a very long time, I humbly beg your forgiveness. Life has been extremely busy (as it is for everyone, I know) but now I am done with school and on summer break. I shall be writing a lot more nowadays since I am back from vacation. Thank you for your reviews and patience, they are deeply appreciated!

A/N II: I have also been reading a lot of Ancient Egyptian history to try and make this fic more realistic. Please keep in mind I have not extensively studied Ancient Egyptian history so I'm probably wrong on lots of things, lol. I found the ritual which Imhotep performs on a site whose name I completely forgot. Just know that I did not make it up.

* * *

Chapter Five: The Opet Festival

* * *

"I always knew that this would happen."

Nefertiri chose to remain mute as her father paced within her bed chamber. She lay on the bed, facing him but completely silent. He had come the next morning to see her immediately upon his arrival from Denderah, a city north of Thebes on the opposite side of the Nile.

"I knew there would be a day when she would do something like this. If the ceremony were not so close I might have imposed a harsher sentence upon my wife. For now I shall simply withhold her allowance." Seti concluded amicably, although it was clear that Nefertiri had no real part in this one sided conversation.

Therefore, the princess chose to remain silent and forgo any possible disagreement between them. Her cheek had healed quite nicely with such minimal scarring that she forced herself to swallow the irritation she felt.

"The ceremony will commence as planned in two week's time. I am most disappointed that the Medjai laid hands on my bride, however. Nefer, I must ask that you answer me honestly. The Medjai were the _only_ men to have touched her?"

The gleam in her father's once familiar eyes sent a shiver through Nefertiri. She knew that the lives of those guards were in her hands and the weight of that thought frightened her.

"They were only trying to protect me, Your Majesty," She said quietly, not daring to meet his eyes.

As Nefertiri nursed her bandaged arm, Seti was filled with unexpected kindness and he walked over to her, smiling. She waited as he reached out with both hands to gently tilt her face upward.

"Father." He chuckled and then touched his forehead to hers.

Understandably shocked at his pleasant mood, Nefertiri hesitantly returned his smile and relaxed into his touch.

"Father." She repeated back to him.

Seti stood, still smiling.

"I shall see you at supper, my dear."

When the pharaoh finally left her chambers, Nefertiri exhaled audibly. To be invited to dine with her father was no small matter. It was a sad thing that such treatment was a surprise to her. She had been braced for another confrontation after all. Her thoughts swirled in her head as she heard soft shuffling just outside her bedroom doors. It was Ashayt and the rest of her handmaidens, waiting to help her with her morning routine.

As she prepared for her bath, she thought of Imhotep and the previous evening. She knew not what their plan was, if they even had a plan in the first place. Her ailment seemed to be receding, but her feelings for him were only growing with every passing moment. The look in Imhotep's eyes seemed to reflect what she felt within. The knowledge that he truly loved her made her want to scale the palace walls and shout from the roof tops of Thebes. He left before the sun rose, but she did not let him go without a deep kiss. He was leading the morning rituals in the Temple complex of Karnak undoubtedly, and though it was custom for royalty to attend, she deemed it best if she did not. She was loathe to subject herself to unwanted scrutiny and suspicion.

What was she to do in the meantime? Well, there was plenty to do but it all seemed like nothing compared to being with the man she adored. Nefertiri set about her studies with her tutor and dove into her translations with unrelenting vigor. Perhaps if she immersed herself, the gods would sympathize with her and speed up the passing of time.

* * *

(One week later)

The chanting of the awakening ritual filled Imhotep's ears as he opened the doors of the god Amun's sanctum. Nothing was out of the ordinary, he bowed in reverence to the idol of Amun that was to be fed, dressed and anointed with fragrant oil. Imhotep continued chanting as well as the rest of the temple priests and servants.

"Awake in peace, may your awakening be peaceful!" They sang as a collective entity.

After the traditional prayer, the priests of lower rank filed in to prepare the natron, incense and pure water. Imhotep sang, "Revelation of the Face, Adoration of the Face, Rise over the earth, Just as you emerge from Nun! May your rays illuminate the Earth! Long live the gods who exhort his beauty-they are like your sons in the East!"

He stood in silent contemplation while the priestesses played sistrums. The statue of Amun was then dressed in the four symbolic colors.

When the ceremony was complete, Imhotep and his priests slowly backed away as the doors of the temple were shut. He bowed a final time and then turned away from the temple. The priests followed him down the steps, carefully sweeping away his footprints. The temple of Amun was blessed and cleansed, the God would safeguard the city.

His next task was to meet with Pharaoh and the other advisors. There was talk of possible war with Assyria. He had been dreading the idea but it seemed that the militaristic empire was seeking to annex what it could of Egypt. He knew that Seti hated the thought of having his throne taken away from him. Imhotep also knew that King Ashur of Assyria was not a merciful man. When he was a child his village had been sacked by a band of Assyrian troops, he remembered the brutality and carnage they left in their wake.

Glancing around at the staggering sophistication of Thebes, Imhotep believed that the Assyrians would only be too happy to acquire such a jewel. Thebes was a major city on the Nile, the religious capital of Egypt and a center of trade and commerce. If Thebes fell, the Assyrians would have unlimited access to the river as well as the satisfaction of having defeated their enemies' gods.

Quickening his pace, Imhotep headed toward the palace. The majority of the people in the central pavilion consisted mostly of nobility that had been present for the blessing of Amun. He smiled politely to most of the men, inclined his head to the women and grinned at the little children that flitted past.

Just before the entrance to the palace, he spotted Anck su Namun sitting on a stone bench alone. She was staring directly at him with an indecipherable look on her face. He immediately thought of his Nefer, and his heart filled with fear that somehow Anck knew the truth.

He could do nothing but stop to talk to her now. If he ignored her, it would be a dangerous move on his behalf.

"Good morrow, High Priest."

"Good morrow, Anck su Namun."

"I think it shall be a fine day, today. See how the sun glows golden?" She asked idly.

"Do not try to distract me with such talk, madam. I cannot express my anger over what happened to the princess in words. Are you trying to anger the Pharaoh on purpose, and so close to your wedding?"

"My my, I did not expect a discourse so heated, High Priest. You have not spoken to me as much in days."

Imhotep glared down at her, distaste for Anck su Namun's thick body paint and glamorous attire shone clearly in his eyes. Her sly, coquettish behavior did not suit him any longer.

"You are lucky that you are so beloved by Seti. He might have had you killed if you had been anyone else."

Her dark eyes narrowed to slits at that remark.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Simply a warning, Anck."

"Well, thank you," The bronze woman said with mock graciousness, "I did not expect your tender concern since I am no longer worthy to warm your bed."

Imhotep jerked noticeably as she spoke.

"Hold your tongue, woman!"

"Wouldn't you rather hold my tongue?"

He colored with rage at her disregard for propriety. They were in public among several gossipmongers, if anyone overheard them, the repercussions could be deadly. He dared not stay any longer.

"I shall leave you."

And so he did.

* * *

The inundation season began and well into the second month of monsoons, Thebes was submerged beneath the Nile. There were several crocodile sightings upon the river bank- or so Imhotep heard. He spent most of his time praying, studying and treating some of the younger children of the nobility who had fallen ill from mosquito bites. The vile insects multiplied like devils, the young and the very old were the ones who first succumbed to the diseases the mosquitoes spread. Unfortunately, one child had passed away that very afternoon.

Imhotep performed the funeral rites for the young boy, the heir of the Pharaoh's military general Hasan. His wife fought to stifle her tears as she looked upon her dead boy's body. It took the better part of three days to bring him into the world and it took but a few hours for him to leave it. Their devastated faces enhanced Imhotep's anguish. He could not save their child, their heir. What good were his years of apprenticeship and experience in physics if he could not apply them to his tasks?

Even much later, Imhotep's thoughts were weighed down by the memory of the boy's pallor. He was a strong, sturdy creature that was always running this way and that. Imhotep remembered seeing the child around the palace, talking animatedly with his peers when his nurse was not supervising him.

He had not seen Nefertiri in four days. That was another issue constantly making itself known in his mind. She had not summoned him at all, which must have meant that her recovery was progressing as expected. It seemed time was the best remedy. There was, however, still a fear in him that suggested her ardor would dissipate surely as her body would soon be completely rid of the potion.

Trying to keep his anxiety from getting out of control, the priest focused on his duties for the Opet Festival. He was to lead the procession from Karnak to Luxor, a prestigious honor that he was bestowed by the Pharaoh. The divine barque that carried the statue of Amun was carried by thirty of his priests and priestesses, then followed by the king's lavish retinue. There were hundreds of Med-jai that accompanied the royal procession, to keep back the crowds of people who gathered around the sphinx avenue to share their grievances with the statue of Amun.

The Opet Festival was one of the happiest in Egypt, especially in Thebes. The return journey of the statue of Amun to Karnak was by river this time, and the crowds were finally allowed to gaze upon the statue as well as the king in the royal barge. Accompanying Pharaoh were the children and some of the wives, the most noticeable amongst them was the luminous Nefertiri. The Opet Festival was meant to be a time of frivolity, joy and hope, the people of Egypt saw their beloved princess as a beacon of grace, divinity and most importantly, fertility.

Quite appallingly, when Anck su Namun emerged from her place behind the dark curtains, she received many inappropriate shouts and cries from the men. Seti colored purple with rage but held his tongue. He did not like the attention his future wife received but he did not dare risk hurting his own popularity. There were enough people-farmers, merchants, peddlers- along the river to make up a good sized rebellion in which the Med-jai would be vastly outnumbered.

Therefore, the king maintained his composure as the boat sailed on. Nefertiri took the liberty to walk about the deck and wave to the people, the open display of gaiety was neither forced nor premeditated and the people who lined the shores seemed to know that. She knew she was cherished by her people when they threw lotus petals in the direction of the boat and offered her warm salutations.

Nefertiri could not help but gloat inwardly as the men jeered at the painted concubine. A whore was a whore, even if she happened to find herself standing at the side of a god. She surreptitiously glanced at Anck, noting the barely concealed anger that flitted through her obsidian eyes. She was indeed devastatingly beautiful that evening. The light from the torches held by the Medjai reflected off of her bronzed skin, her face arranged in her trademark expression of neutrality.

Imhotep traveled with his own retinue of priests and priestesses. After they restocked their supplies in Thebes, they would continue to the palace at Malkata where the court would hold its exclusive celebrations for the Opet festival. He hoped fervently to see more of his princess there but he dared not show it lest he put himself under suspicion. He felt restless due to the issue with Assyria, as Seti ordered a moderate amount of troops be sent to safeguard the border Egypt shared with Assyria in the northwest. The conflict had been a long time coming but the high priest never believed the threat would come to fruition so quickly.

He did not want to go to Malkata, he wanted to stay in Thebes. Something in his gut told him that he needed to cherish his House of Healing within the temple at Karnak, for it could all be gone in a matter of months.

But as Seti declared, the court was to make merry in the tradition of old in order to show to the common folk that nothing was amiss and they could be confident in their monarch. Imhotep looked out into the grinning faces of the people and wondered if they were right to trust in a vain, ailing man such as Seti. He believed it was time for a change but since there was no male heir the next in line to the throne was Nefertiri. She was of age and she was perfectly capable if not more than capable of assuming command and superseding her father. At the same time though, Seti was nothing if resilient. His stubbornness would make it all but impossible for him to willingly relinquish power even if it was to his own flesh and blood. He lived as if he was still a young man as his limp worsened and his energy drained.

The journey to Malkata was arduous and was detrimental to Imhotep's good humor. All of these thoughts made his head ache with worry and when asked if he wanted to sup, he snapped uncharacteristically at his attendants.

Another troubling matter made itself known in his mind. The long awaited ceremony to determine who would be the protector of the bracelet of Anubis was imminent. Nefertiri's arm was mostly healed but he feared for the undoubted ferocity of the fight. He knew for certain that Anck su Namun would not put on anything less than a spectacular show as she lived for the glamour that the royal court provided.

Upon arrival at Malkata, Imhotep was able to espy Nefertiri standing on the deck of the Royal Barge. She spotted him immediately as well and smiled softly in his direction before hurriedly looking away as Seti called out to her. He enjoyed the brief eye contact, it relieved some of the longing that beat against his heart but he knew it was imperative he speak to her before she fought Anck.

Judging from the aggressive lilt in her voice during their last conversation, Imhotep knew that the viper would not rest until it had exacted its vengeance.

* * *

TBC…


	6. The Viper and its Prey

Title: Even Angels Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, no copyright infringement intended.

A/N: Ah, the day of the ceremony has arrived at last…Nefer will face off with Anck. I apologize about the loooong wait. Personal stuff got in the way, school takes up 99.9999% of my time. Please read, enjoy and review!

* * *

Chapter Six: The Viper and its Prey

* * *

The pageantry with which the Royal procession was greeted was unprecedentedly opulent. Malkata itself seemed to be lit with merriment and laughter. Well wishers lined the streets around the palace and although her arm felt heavy on account of the golden bracelets she wore, Nefertiri continued to wave and smile as she sat on her carrying chair. The expedition from the docks of the Nile to the palace at Malkata was relatively brief after all.

Nefertiri settled into her usual chambers that were prepared for herself during this time of the festive season. The girls who cared for the rooms while the Royal Family was not residing in this particular palace were added to her already impressive number of handmaidens. As testimony to either her immense preoccupation or her maturity, Nefertiri could presently care less about the variety of her wardrobe and attire.

Whilst pretending to approve the many silk, velvet, and damask garments she was presented, she reviewed every known weakness of Anck su Namun's. Suffice it to say that the list was not long. Nefertiri's vicious thirst for victory became all consuming.

The very next day after their arrival, Nefertiri had established a routine where she would practice alone with a vast collection of weaponry that included daggers, spears, swords of different shapes and lengths as well as her favorite-scimitars. After a few hours of unrelenting vigorous exercise, the princess would retreat to the lake of Amenhotep to cool down.

It was late afternoon when Nefertiri went to swim. She brought only Ashayt with her and two Medjai, the three stood on guard near the bank of the manmade lake. Ashayt held a robe of shimmering bronze for her to don after her swim but otherwise remained still and silent as did the Medjai.

Used to a life of constant scrutiny, the princess pointedly ignored their presence and basked happily in the cool waters. She had not seen Anck su Namun since they were travelling on the royal barge, but she knew the other woman would not go down quite so easily. With a grim smile, Nefertiri thought that the spectators of their battle would witness some very good entertainment. For it was not simply a fight to conclude who would protect the bracelet of Anubis; it was also a private battle between the two of them to determine who was more worthy of Imhotep's affection. For the latter, Nefertiri was prepared to give everything she had to prevail.

Overcome by a fit of restlessness, Nefertiri dove under the water and kicked energetically. She moved through the darkness with swift precision and grace. Some fish lurked about but other than that the wildlife was sparse in the artificial lake. She swam for a few more seconds before oxygen became necessary and she was compelled to swim to the surface. She inhaled deeply as she breached the surface and smoothed her hair back away from her face. When she opened her eyes, she was astonished to see Imhotep standing beside Ashayt, who had stepped back slightly in nervousness.

He looked straight at her with eyes that would have made her knees buckle had she not been in water.

"High Priest! What brings you here?" She asked politely, if not a bit awkwardly as she treaded water.

Imhotep's lips quirked upward in an almost smile when he saw her frolicking in the lake.

"His Majesty the Pharaoh has asked me to examine Your Highness's arm before the ceremony tomorrow evening. I apologize for my impromptu presence but it is imperative that I do see to Your Highness's wound."

She agreed readily and was swimming quickly to the shore before he remembered to turn around for decorum's sake. He nearly allowed himself to watch as she rose out of the water. He had to stop himself from groaning when he briefly saw the rivulets of water running down her neck, past her collarbone and between her lovely breasts. It had indeed been a long time since he last touched her.

"You may look now, High Priest." There was a hint of teasing in her tone.

Nefertiri was clad in her bronze colored robe when he cautiously faced her. She smiled and dismissed Ashayt and her bodyguards then. There were no questions asked, Imhotep was surely to be trusted. Only Ashayt spared a moment to glance at her mistress and throw her a questioning look. Nefertiri nodded once, signaling that it was alright.

They were mercifully alone.

"How are you?" She asked tenderly.

"I have been most busy but my head is filled with thoughts of you."

"I see." She said drily.

"And you? I have heard of your lengthy sparring sessions. You are not overdoing it I hope, my dear."

She scoffed playfully at his solicitous concern, shaping her mouth into a little pout.

"The exercise helps me think clearly."

His next words came tentatively, in such a sweet timbre that she could only smile.

"I want to kiss you, Nefer."

He reached for her and pulled her against his chest firmly. She gasped in surprise as he did not wait for a reply before planting a soft kiss on her lips. Good sense abruptly kicked in and Nefertiri took two steps back from his arms. She saw the faint look of hurt cross his features but stifled her remorse. This was much too dangerous.

"My quarters, tonight. We can meet uninterrupted then."

She bit her lip as she observed his reluctant agreement. Nefertiri's gaze lowered significantly and spotted Imhotep's burgeoning dilemma, resulting from just a moment's unrestrained passion. She felt her blood rush and her pulse quicken and she was unable to distinguish between the potion's effects and her own amorous feelings. Whatever the case, it was imperative that she hurry back to the palace lest they be seen engaging in less than chaste circumstances in public.

Imhotep watched her walk briskly down the path to the palace, relishing the way her robe emphasized her pert backside. He needed to regain control though and if he stared at her any longer, it would only be detrimental to his goal. He faced the lake, whose surface had gone almost completely still save for a few birds floating peacefully along.

* * *

Supper was a torturous ordeal that involved sensual music, dancers and wine. Imhotep was forced to take his place beside Seti and he believed he played the part of amused courtier quite well. The performances were indeed spectacular as always but it was nothing Imhotep hadn't seen before and he was most anxious to flee elsewhere for less than honorable intentions. Nefertiri was seated on the opposite side of her father, next to Anck su Namun.

It was uncomfortable to say the least. Neither of them spoke or looked at the other, the hatred between them was distinctly palpable. Imhotep kept his conversation restricted to most of the other men including a few generals and of course the Pharaoh himself.

Even the conversation was sparse. He ate little and drank much wine. Only Nefertiri and Anck su Namun could discern his fidgety unease.

Imhotep kept himself content by recalling the last time he made love to his princess, on her spacious bed. The beautiful, luxurious bed on which they both reached heights of hedonistic pleasure was a source of many of his erotic fantasies involving Nefertiri. It was like he forgot that the reason why they were in this situation was because of a band of crooks and their vulgar schemes. But before he could indulge in any self reprimand, he remembered when Nefertiri told him that she had loved him nearly her whole life. He trusted her and respected her decision regardless of the fact that it made him so incandescently happy.

"High Priest? Have you been listening at all?" General Akhom snapped.

The flow of speech was abruptly interrupted as Imhotep took a moment to regain his bearings. He then replied, "I fear that I have much to contemplate, General, forgive me for my inattention."

Relief flitted through his mind as he reinstated himself as the Pharaoh's closest advisor although he wanted nothing more than to wrap his naked body around the princess who sat but five steps away.

* * *

"Well, hello to you too, I've had a nice evening so far thank you for asking."

Nefertiri remarked teasingly as Imhotep entered her bedchamber unannounced and then proceeded to gather her into his arms.

"You cannot blame me for missing you, Nefer."

She looked upon his face with tenderness that filled him with indescribable pleasure. He felt his worry break free of the restraint he exercised upon it.

Turning serious, Imhotep asked if she was prepared to do battle with Anck su Namun. The ceremony was that following evening and many were looking forward to it. Although it pained him to hear, several of the court were placing discreet bets on Anck su Namun. They made her out to be the fiercer of the two and Imhotep would not admit it aloud, but he feared they were correct.

"I will show everyone how I have improved. Mark my words." Nefertiri demurred.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder, Imhotep sensed tension suffusing through her slight shoulders. He squeezed gently and she covered his hand with her own. The pair stood in easy silence for several moments.

"Imhotep?"

"Yes, dear one?"

She turned around to look at him in earnest. He could not tell what she was truly thinking, for her eyes were like the surface of the lake she so enjoyed to dip into. Their warmth drew you in but kept undesirable intruders out of her innermost musings.

"To be completely honest, there is a part of me that is afraid. I have…I have this feeling of _something_ I cannot name, lurking in the depths of my consciousness. I fear for my father. I fear for Anck's influence on him. She drives him mad with lust, teases him and denies him until he is blue in the face from screaming at anyone unfortunate to cross him after she's done her damage. I feel like all I can do is stand to the side as she poisons him, all without him realizing it."

He remained silent, sensing that there was more to her monologue. Nefertiri inhaled a shallow breath and then laughed quietly, as if she were telling herself off for something silly.

"I hope to put her in her place by defeating her, by proving myself to be more worthy of protecting the bracelet of Anubis and my own father."

"I stand by you in this, my blossom. Even if I am not capable of showing my support in public. I must warn you though that she approached me some time ago before we arrived here. Since I have ended our relations, she has become suspicious. I fear that she knows about us. This will make it even more imperative to her to defeat you where it will sting the most; in front of the Pharaoh and his illustrious posse."

"We could not hide this forever. I am more afraid of her threatening to tell my father about us. If she knows, why hasn't she said anything yet? Surely nothing would stop her from outing us."

"She cannot out you without outing herself."

"If I defeat her…_When_ I defeat her, do you think she will be compelled to tell my father about us as revenge?"

"She will undoubtedly be angry, but knowing her, she will be satisfied once His Majesty regales her with presents. I will suggest that to him, in the event that she falls to your indomitable hand." His eyes twinkled as he saw her smirk.

She nodded gratefully and went about snuffing out the candles in her bedchamber. Imhotep removed his outer robe made of black linen and settled comfortably on her bed. When the room was at last bathed in darkness, he felt her slide in beside him. They were not to end the evening on a carnal, primitive note, but in a mood of pensive adoration. His arm wound around her shoulders, holding her snugly against him and she fell asleep to visions of golden scimitars dancing in discordant harmony.

* * *

Time seemed to slow, the air became thick like molasses, as she fell to the ground with an ungainly thud. The anger that felt so far off suddenly attacked her eardrums, her heart pounding relentlessly as she listened to their noble audience applaud graciously, as if that would make her fall less humiliating.

Her face burned beneath the mask, she was glad of its protection against the intent eyes of the crowd. Nefertiri focused on her opponent, who was poised to begin another round with her scimitars grasped steadily in both hands. The princess gritted her teeth and chastised herself, she knew it would not be easy to overcome her mentor but at the same time she despised the fact that she had sustained the first loss.

As Anck su Namun approached her, Nefertiri removed her mask so that the heat in her cheeks would dissipate. Anck followed suit, although she wore an expression of masked smugness as she said, "Put your mask back on. Let's not scar that pretty face."

If she had been a spectator, perhaps the princess would have appreciated Anck's subtle taunting. The rage that Anck's command had incited propelled her from the floor and back on her feet, gave her the agility to spin her scimitars and show to the viper that her prey had not succumbed. They each assumed combat ready poses for the benefit of the royal court, hiding their emotions behind the façade of showy maneuvering.

Imhotep, standing at the right of Seti, remained stock still with every muscle in his back tense as he observed the match. He cringed when the princess landed on her back, he could only hope that all eyes were riveted on the two women on the marble floor and not his own reactions. All he could do was be impassive during the match but appropriately concerned with whatever might befall Nefertiri.

Anck took the offensive and moved forward several steps as her weapons clanged loudly with Nefertiri's, Imhotep's breathing quickened slightly in alarm. He watched as the princess skillfully parried every blow and moved with Anck, after which she attempted to land a few of her own but was also parried.

Somehow in the altercation, Nefertiri lost hold of both of her scimitars. She swiftly accepted this and began a series of neatly executed cartwheels into a back handspring. She used the momentum gained to jump onto a ledge where an assortment of weapons was assembled against the golden wall. Nefertiri did not hesitate to seize a sturdy axe and return to the floor. Anck rid herself of her scimitars which were clearly no good against the axe and copied Nefertiri's movements, in the opposite direction where she grabbed a spear from a statue. The two fighters approached each other, spinning their weapons.

Nefertiri felt the cold tile beneath her bare feet, the sweat dripping down her forehead, the strength in the muscles of her arms as well as Imhotep's gaze upon her. She tuned everything else out except the pattern of her breathing.

The next few moments were even more intense than the last. Everything passed in a blur of motion and hatred. Nefertiri relished every strike of her axe against Anck's spear and she was vaguely aware of crying out as she fought. She remembered the way that she bested Anck all of those weeks before and set about orchestrating her opponents downfall. She struck fast and blindingly, forcing the other woman to scramble to predict her next moves.

This made Anck uncomfortable; she disliked this aspect of the princess's fighting style because it made it hard for her to be beautiful as well as fierce. She wanted the Pharaoh to think of her as the flawless guardian of the bracelet of Anubis-

Nefertiri saw the flash of distraction in the viper's obsidian eyes. Now was the time.

She chambered her right leg in the air, precise and deadly , and it met with Anck su Namun's ribs. Anck screamed in pain, clearly not expecting this tactic from the otherwise dainty princess. Nefertiri followed with a spinning back kick, this time her foot landed on Anck's chest which forced her to the ground. She tumbled to the floor, weighted down by the spear, and Nefertiri kicked said spear away, sending it rolling several paces away and out of Anck's reach.

Anck was defenseless and vulnerable to attack, beneath the princess's formidable axe.

It was over before she knew it. She was panting, adrenaline coursing through her blood as heady as wine. She briefly glanced at the court, everyone was applauding and Imhotep stood, doing his best to hide his pride.

She heard her father say, "Bravo! Bravo!" and the rest of his speech was drowned out by the all encompassing feeling of the most important victory of her life.

* * *

TBC…


	7. Sesen

Title: Even Angels Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, no copyright infringement intended.

A/N: Once again, sorry for the wait. I love you all for reading, and for not flaming me for my irregular and scarce updates. Please, enjoy!

A/N 2: I should also mention that I drew inspiration for this chapter from "The Memoirs of Cleopatra" by Margaret George, an amazing book that gives a good idea of what life for a royal was like in Egypt back in the day. The description of Alexandria and the name Achillas come from this lovely book. The italics are quotes directly taken from the movies.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Sesen

* * *

"_Bravo! Bravo! Who better to protect the Bracelet of Anubis and to protect me than my lovely daughter, Nefertiri."_

The princess was glowing with undisguised pride as her father descended from his dais to stand beside her. The fact that he completely ignored Anck su Namun was immediately noted by those who were interested; the women of the harem who were allowed to witness the contest. They hid behind their ostrich feather fans, but the ignominious tone of their audible whispers still struck Anck, and she hated every single one of them for it. Anck rose to her feet as gracefully as she could under the circumstances and withdrew into herself, raising the beautiful façade that she relied upon since her birth.

She bowed and took a few steps away from the Pharaoh, but she continued to look at Nefertiri. The viper's eyes blazed, but perhaps it was Nefertiri's hubris that prevented her from seeing what lay in those treacherous orbs.

After the Pharaoh declared that everyone should dine at once, he embraced his daughter tenderly. Nefertiri closed her eyes and smiled widely, feeling that she had finally redeemed herself after her transgression in the market all of those months ago. When she opened her eyes, she saw Imhotep descending from the dais, followed by his priests who had previously guarded the Bracelet of Anubis, and although it was most likely dangerous, he stole a glance at her while her father's back was turned.

Nefertiri offered him a subtle grin in return. The corner of his mouth threatened to rise but he controlled the impulse, saying with his eyes what he could never say aloud and with his heart he willed her to understand.

* * *

The Royal Family traveled to Alexandria next, the journey to the north was significantly slower due to the inundation of the Nile. They had to travel against the water and it hindered their progress, but Seti refused to stop for any reason whatsoever. "The river will stop for the son of Osiris!" He boomed with surprisingly good humor when Imhotep merely suggested a brief respite for the exhausted rowers.

The scenery itself was majestic. They had left the baking desert that surrounded Malkata and seemed to enter into an oasis, where the vegetation on either bank was lush. The saturated shades of gold, green and brown made a dramatic backdrop to their journey. There were temples, there were cliffs, there were villages where people would run to the shore to pay homage to their sovereign.

Time seemed to complement their journey, albeit it passed very slowly. Nefertiri remained in the shaded part of the barge with Ashayt and usually a book of some sort to occupy her mind since she did not have her tutors with her. She read and translated, but every so often she would stand and take a turn about the deck, to survey the land and to make small talk with those who traveled with them.

Imhotep watched her from a distance, he was even more guarded because of the constant proximity to her as well as her father. He led the prayers to Amun-Ra, although they were far from Thebes, every morning when they woke to a gloriously red sunrise.

Anck su Namun was now one of Seti's wives. Their marriage had been made official in Malkata, shortly after her ungainly defeat by her husband's daughter, and the ceremony had undoubtedly overshadowed the events of that particular evening.

What was most disappointing, perhaps for Anck su Namun, was that her privileges as a true wife were not much better than those she had as a concubine. Yes, she was given some new dresses, pretty trinkets, pure bred horses that were brought back separately to the palace at Thebes, but when all was said and done she was nothing more than a trophy that Seti had placed upon a pedestal. He took great pleasure in flaunting her, for she was the most stunning of his women, and the gods knew what they got up to in his bedchamber at night. The hope was that she would produce a boy, since Seti had no live sons despite the impressive size of his harem.

Seti remained on good terms with his oldest daughter. More and more he was beginning to display signs of his intention to make her his successor, to the chagrin of many of the Pharaoh's advisors. They were of the belief that a women could not possibly assume the role of Pharaoh no matter how intelligent she was. During the journey, Nefertiri spent afternoons seated next to her father, listening to his concerns and occasionally posing a question or two about whatever topic they had chosen to discuss. Imhotep hovered nearby in the background, listening to the conversation while maintaining a façade of polite indifference.

As always, the priest was amazed at Nefertiri's beauty. The soft orange glow of the sun complemented the warmth of her skin, her neck left exposed since her hair was swept up in the old Macedonian style. The numerous pleats of her dress hid her form but her arms were bare save for the Bracelet of Anubis, which she now wore all of the time.

He had only been to visit her in private once, in her room within the cabin. Greedily, she took what she could from him in almost complete silence, because Ashayt slept just outside and the Medjai were never too far away. Imhotep never thought he would be so adept at finding ways in and out of places, for now he could practically materialize out of thin air into the princess's room undetected.

Anck su Namun had also been drawing his attention of late. He remained extra vigilant of all that he ate and drank, especially when she was within anything less than five paces of him. He spoke tersely to her—if he had to speak at all. He did not even look at her.

Therefore he could not possibly know the turmoil brewing in her mind. He could not know that her _ba_, her innermost soul, was churning with resentment toward everything and everyone. She hid it well, but if one were to look hard enough, they might be able to distinguish her despair in her countenance.

Finally, the sight of glimmering Alexandria appeared before them, and the river seemed to shrink because of the numerous smaller boats, merchants doing business in what was probably one of the busiest and most lucrative markets on the entire Mediterranean coast. Nefertiri watched the fishermen displaying their catches, as their wives assisted them in the transactions. It was a wonderful floating market that she always enjoyed visiting, despite the fact that most activity stilled upon the sight of the Royal Barge rowing through the city.

The palace was the one where Nefertiri's mother was born and raised. Her father had built a chapel in her mother's honor when she passed away in childbirth, it was one of the many things that Nefertiri loved about the city beside the Lighthouse and the Library. The people lined the streets, mostly Egyptians of Greek heritage, who nonetheless loved the princess whom they already revered as Isis. To greet them, Nefertiri had dressed in a loose fitting Grecian style dress of white silk. She appeared heavenly, giving many poets and singers inspiration for their work.

Because she stood in support of her father, Imhotep conjectured that that was the only reason why there was hardly any opposition against Seti. There was a feeling that the Pharaoh was losing touch with his subjects, which was becoming increasingly true but Nefertiri's benevolence and rumors of her imminent ascent to power offset any unhappiness the people might have had with their current ruler. Imhotep had to admit that there was more than a little merit in that rumor because of Seti's renewed enthusiasm with involving his daughter in matters of state.

The retinue disembarked from the barge upon arrival at the palace, where many of the king's ministers awaited him. They looked somber, their faces lined with worry. Nefertiri noted this and wondered could things really be that much worse here than in Thebes? She supposed that Thebes was further inland and therefore protected by the buffer cities while Alexandria lay exposed, vulnerable to attack by sea. And Alexandria was their pride and joy, a place of learning and advancement.

"Welcome, Your Majesty, Your Highness." General Achillas said as Seti approached.

"Thank you, Achillas. I trust you have much to tell me of the affairs of things here. I will be keeping Nefertiri close to me, and anything you say to me may also be said to her."

There was a slant to the Pharaoh's words that both the general and the princess recognized. In that moment, they both realized Seti's true intention of making Nefertiri his real heir. The king would not wait any longer for a son. Time was not on his side, and with so much pressure from his military commanders about the possibility of war, it followed that he would want his successor to be someone wise, someone he trusted and loved even if it was a young and relatively naïve princess.

* * *

"Your Highness, I know this may not be in my place to say, but…"

"Oh, what is it Ashayt? You have been skittish as a jackal the whole morning! It is too beautiful a day to spend trying to discern your subliminal messages. Please, say whatever is on your mind lest your agitation transfer onto me!"

The two young women were walking outside in the Lotus Pavilion, as was their routine. Nefertiri stopped to admire the jasmine flowers that were in bloom, nonchalantly awaiting her maid's reply.

"…My lady, you have not bled for more than seven weeks."

The only noise that could be heard in the pavilion at that moment was the rustling of leaves caused by the breeze.

Nefertiri was frozen in dawning realization. It had been a long time since her training with Anck su Namun ended but it was most certainly true that she had not bled recently at all. She blithely attributed the delay to the strain her training put on her.

"Ashayt, you cannot mention this to anyone. Do you understand me? Swear to Isis that you will not voice this thought again." The princess's voice was an urgent whisper.

If this was not the result of stress, Nefertiri did not know what she could do. She never thought she could conceive, fertility was something that the women of her family were simply not blessed with. Her own mother suffered two miscarriages before she delivered Nefertiri successfully, although the cost was her life.

She needed to speak with Imhotep, for he was the only man she wanted to tell if her maid's suspicions proved to be correct. Not to mention that after all, he was her physician. What were they to do? The implications were not to be taken lightly, this was the point of no return. If this was true and if both of them acknowledged it then the only reasonable course of action was to make it public and to make their marriage official before the eyes of the Pharaoh and the Egyptian people.

It was not the time to think of all this now, however. For now, she needed to breathe deeply and try to walk on trembling legs, even though she was acutely mindful of her body and its several imperceptible changes.

* * *

Seti was indulging his subjects with a lengthy and frankly overwhelming audience that had been long overdue. After all the drunken carousing of the Opet Festival, the cheerful atmosphere of the court had drastically plummeted. Nefertiri had been asked to sit with her father throughout the day and was becoming completely immersed in her unofficial role as her father's successor.

Nothing had been vocalized yet though with each passing day Nefertiri felt that she would perhaps get her wish and become Queen of Egypt; something that she never thought to achieve because of Anck su Namun's chances of conceiving a son. What a cruel irony, she thought, that she herself could be with child while the newest wife of the Pharaoh showed no signs of pregnancy despite the fact that they had been intimate far before they were actually wed.

She still did not fully believe it to be true. Yet at times, she caught herself fingering the fabric of her dress that rested above her stomach and immediately she removed her hand. This was no time to be indulging herself in whimsical ideas of a child who had his eyes. Again she felt like hitting herself for imagining their child's appearance. Nefertiri steeled herself ruthlessly to listen to Achillas who was currently speaking about the importance of levying taxes to fund the construction of more ships for the Royal Fleet.

Apparently war with Assyria was on the forefront of everyone's minds. Seti said nary a word, he only listened. This in itself was an unusual occurrence for which everyone was grateful. Nefertiri supposed a reason for his uncharacteristic reticence could be that he was coming out of the stupor that Anck su Namun induced. The haze was lifting. Although he remained somewhat cantankerous, the Pharaoh finally seemed to realize that the country needed a strong leader especially when conflict loomed in the future. If he were to die now the subsequent struggle for the Egyptian throne would only make it too easy for outsiders to invade and conquer.

"…and therefore I believe it necessary to impose new taxes on the people. Surely you can all see the reason why! Alexandria is a port city and I daresay it is a key to the rest of our realm. If we surrender it then all is lost. Our fleet needs to be in the best condition if it is expected to defend us. These years of peace have made our soldiers negligent-"

"Yes, yes, Achillas. You have quite made your point. I thank you for your candidness in expressing your opinion," Seti said evenly as the general nodded curtly and sat back down. There was a murmur amongst the men, some voicing their agreement and some making their protest known.

They all fell silent when the Pharaoh suddenly stood to make some proclamation. Neferitiri watched their reactions as her father began to speak.

"While the thought is not a pleasant one," he started slowly, "I admit that I agree with General Achillas. I want our military to be in superb condition in the event that we are attacked. I will not have this kingdom ransacked by bloodthirsty barbarians!"

There were noises of approval from most of the military commanders, all shrewd men of strategy. They all looked at the princess with a gleam in their eyes as if she was the one to thank for making her father see reason and rediscover his common sense. She noted this with interest, staking out future allies.

"On a happier note, I would like to tell you I am of the opinion that my oldest daughter, our dear Princess Nefertiri, is to be married in the very near future." This elicited several gasps of surprise.

The princess herself was shocked into speechlessness. She was not expecting that at all. Seti had not spoken to her of the possibility of marriage at all, for she knew marriage was an item on her father's list of priorities that was just under her coronation as Queen of Egypt—both of which she thought were most unlikely to ever occur so soon!

"To whom, I cannot yet say for I am still in deep thought about the man who will be best suited to my daughter…whom I intend to make the next monarch of this dynasty."

Nefertiri's jaw dropped literally as her father turned to smile at her with all the tenderness that he had ever shown in a serious audience. She quickly regained her composure and snapped it shut. Taking his proffered hand, the princess stood and smiled at the equally shocked courtiers.

"I thank you, father, most revered ruler for your kindness and the honor you give me by making me your true heir. May Osiris grant me wisdom so that I may make you proud."

She smiled again to hide her astonishment, standing stock still as the Pharaoh bent to kiss her cheek.

_May Osiris also posit a solution for a future queen, who may already be carrying an heir for Egypt,_ Neferitir thought privately.

Everyone present in the chamber was too swept up in the news to notice that the High Priest had slipped in moments ago. He had just finished overseeing the progress of the school of medicine that was recently improved under measures that he himself took great pains to ensure.

He arrived just in time to hear the announcement. Consternated and bewildered, Imhotep found a vacant chair to sink into. Rationally he knew that he should have expected this. Anguish filled him almost instantly after as he realized that they could never be married as they had hoped against all hope. For she was to be Isis and forevermore out of his reach.

* * *

TBC…

Also, the title of this chapter is the Ancient egyptian word for lotus flower, the symbol for creation and rebirth. Forgive me for the symbolism...I couldn't help it.


	8. Onuris

Title: Even Angels Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, no copyright infringement intended.

A/N: Okaaaaay…so I've been gone a REALLY long time. I feel awful about it, since the next update will probably take a while. I have a new international job starting next week and in the meantime I have to move. I am still working on this story though, and I hope those of you who are still with me will wait patiently as you have. I want to thank all of you who've reviewed and put my story on alert, it really means a lot. I hope you're enjoying the story and that you'll continue to read despite my horrible laggy updates.

So again, thank you and without further ado, I give you the next chapter of the saga…

* * *

Chapter Eight: Onuris

* * *

Nefertiri's ears rang still, moments after the Pharaoh's revelation. She stood dumbly in place, smiling graciously to those who bowed to her and kissed her hand but inwardly she reeled. The implications were boundless. She would have her chance to rule but at the expense of her very happiness. She could not ask to marry the High Priest unless it was asked immediately before her condition became very apparent, but the fact that such a choice would be highly unorthodox already made it risky. She struggled to keep her free hand at her side instead of over her midsection.

She saw Imhotep on the far side of the room. There was unmasked pain on his face, reflecting what she was feeling herself, and she thought that they were two strings on the same lute, quivering with the same anguish. Elegant even in his sorrow, she felt her heart swell for the man. Nefertiri began to bid the courtiers good night, and then kissed her father's cheek. Ashayt and a pair of Medjai emerged to escort the princess to her rooms. Nefertiri dared not look in Imhotep's direction again but as always, her spirit reached out to his with all the bitter longing it possessed.

At the threshold of the audience chamber, Nefertiri did not notice Anck su Namun entering at the same time that she was leaving and almost walked into her. Reflexively, the princess protected her torso by wrapping her arms around her chest and uttered a small cry of alarm. Anck su Namun immediately stepped back, watching her husband's daughter speculatively. Nefertiri was rendered speechless.

"My apologies, Your Highness." Black eyes glittered insincerely.

Nefertiri, stunned by the brief encounter, inclined her head a fraction in response and resumed her gait.

When the Medjai rounded the corner after the princess, Anck su Namun stared after them in wonder. Her question was partially answered. The way that the princess had guarded her stomach unthinkingly, the fuller cheeks and softer jawline—all signs that Anck su Namun yearned for in her own body that had evaded her. Young Nefertiri was with child, and there was the suspicion within Anck that her former lover the High Priest was the father.

Judging from the princess' visible fear in her thunderstruck expression, Anck knew that she was the last person that Nefertiri wanted knowing her secret. Anck blazed inwardly in triumph. She would have her revenge. Now she just needed to exact it in the way that would hurt the princess the most—the little chit who stole the man she loved and the man she was married to. She smiled when she approached the Pharaoh, enjoying the way that the generals and the advisors glanced at her with veiled desire. She smiled because finally, she had reason to.

* * *

Meanwhile in the vast chamber of state—a hub of perpetual activity in the center of the palace, a lone Nubian man walked in with purpose, despite being bound at the wrist by heavy chains. Achillas, the Pharaoh's head general, and General Akhom were discussing troop placements that were stationed in the territories surrounding Alexandria, as well as the state of the navy. They were interested in mobilizing some of the smaller warships to patrol the coast, as a precautionary measure.

Achillas turned his attention sharply to the shackled man that was escorted in by his soldiers and bristled when he realized this man was no vagabond. He was dressed in a leather kilt and linen tunic, travelling clothes of a statesman, and Achillas commanded that the man be released from his bonds. Once unfettered, the man proceeded toward the table where Achillas and Akhom sat. Two of the palace guards accompanied him still, wary of the foreigner's presence.

"Please accept my apologies for the shackles, sir. These times are tense for the guards, indeed for everyone. If it be your will, please sit with us and tell us this news." Akhom said generously. He gestured to the empty chair beside him and straightened out some of the papyrus scrolls and maps that were cluttering the table surface. The foreigner accepted gratefully, he was a young man but he looked immensely weary.

He briefly surveyed the generals, as if this news had been inside his mind too long and now was having difficulty revealing it, like he was trying to separate oil from water.

" My name is Taharqo, I am an emissary of Nubia. I have travelled for a month upon the Nile, from Meroe in my kingdom of Nubia bearing news from my queen, Her Divine Majesty Amanirenas. Before that, I had spent considerable time with our delegation to Assyria, negotiating an agreement that they would not cross the Red Sea to invade Egypt through our lands."

Achillas grew alarmed. He was not aware of such a delegation, that talks of this sort had ever taken place. They were so preoccupied with the idea of an attack from the north that they hadn't considered the possibility of a military campaign that could come through Kush and Nubia in the south. The Assyrians could mount an invasion from the East if they were met with little resistance from Nubia.

"Last I heard from my fellow diplomats in Babylon, the Assyrians refused to acknowledge Nubia's sovereignty over the shores of its kingdom. They have not directly challenged us, they have only skirted the issue so as to leave their options as open as possible. I come to you now with a promise from my _Kandake_, that she will pledge soldiers and weapons to Egypt. Clearly, Assyrian annexation of Egypt is undesirable for our trading interests. She wishes the Pharaoh to know of her unwavering support and determination to come to Egypt's aid, shall she find herself in need."

"I thank you for this pledge of support, sir, if you are not too fatigued, I would like to inquire more about these diplomatic meetings in Babylon. When did they occur?"

"I left Babylon two months ago half way through the visit there. I was instructed by our ambassador to make the journey to our queen, to seek her counsel and follow her orders. She is a warrior at heart—I think you would find her the most cunning fighter. However, it is in our people's interest to avoid violent conflict. Trade between our two countries is at a high point, a violent takeover will disrupt all economic progress we have made. Her Majesty knows this and is doing her best to create multiple contingency plans in the event that the unthinkable happens."

Akhom sighed heavily. He was an older, heavier set man in charge of the Pharaoh's third army. Achillas was his superior and if he was troubled, Akhom knew that no one would be getting any sleep tonight.

"I do not know if you are aware, but the Pharaoh has just announced his plan to make his daughter Her Highness the Princess Nefertiri his successor," said Achillas without a hint of trepidation. Nubia was, after all, a land where warrior queens were celebrated and worshiped more than kings.

Taharqo's eyes widened, that an Egyptian pharaoh was giving his throne to a daughter.

"My deepest congratulations to Her Highness. I shall convey this news to my _Kandake._ When will Her Highness be coronated?"

"His Majesty has not decided when, but we believe it will be as soon as a royal marriage is arranged. The princess is not betrothed but the matter is surely to be expedited considering the circumstances." Akhom replied, feeling quite out of his realm of expertise while talking about betrothals and royal marriages.

Achillas realized that this new development merited greater reflection and then discussion with many others, preferably away from Taharqo. He stood and moved to tell one of the palace maids to escort Taharqo to a guest chamber, where he could eat and rest before his journey back down to Meroe.

Once he was out of earshot, Achillas immediately sent for all of the Pharaoh's military leaders that were currently in the palace to report to the chamber of state. As soon as they were all aware of the increasingly critical situation, they were going to have to present a coherent plan to the Pharaoh's closest advisor; High Priest Imhotep. And then, the Crown Princess Nefertiri.

* * *

The sun had left its place in the sky, blanketing the city with soft darkness. Nefertiri stood outside on the balcony that afforded her a view of the ocean. She couldn't see the water, save for where the moon cast its light on the glittering black surface. The ominous color reminded her of Anck su Namun's eyes and all at once the princess felt a chilling fear spread through her.

Although not a word had passed her lips during their encounter, she somehow knew intuitively that Anck su Namun sensed her secret. She hated herself for reacting reflexively, protecting the babe that grew in her belly from that woman without a second thought.

When the evening breeze left her unsettled instead of refreshed, she turned to go back inside.

Ashayt and her other handmaidens slept in the antechamber of her bedroom. The enormous bronze doors were firmly closed, there were likely Medjai standing guard outside. Nefertiri walked to her bed and sat slowly on the edge of it, allowing her silk night gown to pool at her feet as she went. She looked down at her body, her fuller breasts and the undeniable firmness of her belly. It had rounded slightly, and she knew she could no longer afford to wear any Egyptian sheath dresses. She'd have to wear the Macedonian draped gowns to disguise her changing figure, until her marriage was decided.

It pained her to think about it, but she still longed for Imhotep—that he could be her husband. He was an experienced advisor and physician. He could guide her through her pregnancy as well as the process of becoming a great Egyptian queen, she mused.

"I see your modesty is charming as ever," A soft voice chuckled near her ear.

She nearly leaped out of her skin when she felt his soft lips brush her bare shoulder, but he steadied her with his arms. As Nefertiri leaned into his embrace, she took one of his hands in her own and held it tightly.

"I'm sorry my dear. I've scared you, haven't I?"

"How the devil did you get in here?" She whispered halfway between irritation and relief.

"Osiris gives me ways. What is wrong? You are tense…"

"I am no longer affected at all by the potion, Imhotep."

Her flat tone made him sit up straighter. He bade her turn around and face him, despite her nakedness. To his surprise, she did exactly that and looked at him with a glint in her eyes.

"I am no longer affected, because I think the potion has served its purpose. I…I am with child."

His jaw slackened with awe, and he trembled at the idea. He looked over her figure, noting the telltale indications of pregnancy and amazingly, terrifyingly, he noted the changes in her perfect body. The doctor in him wanted to say, _Of course this is the result of such frequent frolicking,_ but the man in him was undeniably happy that the woman he loved was carrying his child.

Gently, he reached out to cup her face and kiss her sweetly. She made a small noise, like a quiet sob, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Then she grew bolder in his grasp, kissing him back firmly and running her hands over his shoulders. He closed his eyes tightly, not believing this blessing that the gods sent him.

"I shall ask your father for your hand in marriage, Nefer. I love you, and together we shall make the strongest ruling couple Egypt ever has had."

She beamed at him, somehow finding the courage to refuse to be afraid by anything anymore—Anck su Namun was banished from the periphery of her thoughts and replaced by an all encompassing happiness. If Nefertiri was publicly declared the crown princess, not even a marriage proposal from the High Priest could cause the Pharaoh to retract the order of succession without losing face. The only other person who stood as a threat was Anck su Namun, for her relations with Imhotep before she married the Pharaoh were obviously enough to condemn the High Priest.

That night, neither Imhotep nor Nefertiri could bring themselves to feel anything but joy in each other's presence. They were already married under the eyes of the gods, it was up to them to make it legal in the eyes of men.

When they were lying beneath the blankets, warm and satiated after being together, Imhotep held her close to him and kissed her forehead.

"I needed to tell you, my dear, that the generals had a most interesting visitor earlier today from Meroe."

She tilted her chin up and raised an eyebrow at him.

"A messenger from Queen Amanirenas warned us of the very concrete possibility of an Assyrian invasion through Nubia."

"_What?"_

He cringed at her sudden volume. His eyes flicked to the doors, nervous that the Medjai may get curious. She looked apologetic for her uncontrolled outburst so he continued in a hushed tone.

"It turns out that the threat of war has become a much more pressing matter than we were originally led to believe. It truly concerns me that our diplomatic team has not produced anything that could help us, that we learn about this sort of thing from an emissary of our southern neighbors. Nonetheless, the _Kandake_ has pledged resources to us should we need it. Achillas informed the messenger of your new status as heir. Which means shortly, these men will be turning to you for guidance."

"I rather think that these men will be petitioning my approval for any measures they desire to take, not the other way around. I am no military genius, Imhotep."

"That is why it is imperative that you absorb as much as you can, even before your coronation. You need to gain access to these meetings, in the state chamber. I can tell you that this will likely be the first item on your auspicious agenda as queen. Either the avoidance of a high cost war, or the execution of a successful counteroffensive against a bloodthirsty empire. Depending on when you are crowned queen and how far the conflict escalates in the meantime."

Nefertiri buried her face in his shoulder with a groan.

"May Onuris provide insight to all of us…I wanted this. I must remind myself that I wanted this, I wanted more than a life of lounging beneath an ostrich feather fan."

He looked at her fondly, wanting very much to kiss her again.

"I will truly ask the Pharaoh when the opportunity is ripest. When he is most likely to agree to it. I swear to you, my Nefer, our child will grow up with both of us together. We shall rule Egypt, proudly and successfully."

"How I want it to be so, my love. Oh, how I want it to be so."

They did indeed kiss once more, both filled with love that threatened to sing to the heavens with its purity and depth of devotion.

* * *

TBC...

* * *

A/N: "Kandake" is the ancient Meroitic word for 'queen.' I also want to point out that I am not a ancient Egyptian military expert—I am taking creative license with the style of deliberations and negotiations that Achillas, Akhom and Taharqo had. Oh, and the title is the name of the Egyptian god of war, Onuris.


End file.
